


Supernatural Rewrite: Season Five.

by huntertales



Series: Supernatural Rewrite. [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, Romance, supernatural rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:06:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 458,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntertales/pseuds/huntertales
Summary: Mentions of violence, forced blood drinking, angst, Demon!Reader, Lucifer!Reader.





	1. Sympathy for the Devil.

Run. You need to run. 

It was the first coherent thought that kicked in when you saw the chaos which was unfolding right in front of your eyes. You told yourself that the open doors leading out to the church yard with Ruby’s stolen car was only a few miles away. Adrenaline was one a hell of a natural drug, and with the boys tugging at you, there was a chance you could get out of here before the Devil was biting at your heels. But you couldn’t move. It seemed your feet were glued to the stone floors, like you forgot to walk for a split second. All you knew in the back of your mind was that there was no time to feel guilty. There wasn’t a chance to spare a second to ponder on the remorse of what your wrongful actions have caused. You needed to run fast as you could if you wanted to live long enough to see this aftermath. Who knew what was coming. Lucifer, the archangel you’d heard so much about, the one who lead all of you here, with promises of gifts after you free him. Or maybe it was Satan himself. The monster who lurked in the firey pits of Hell, contemplating of what he was doing to do after finally being free. You had a feeling the demon knife still covered with Ruby’s blood wasn’t going to be enough if you faced him.

You could feel yourself nearly being dragged across the floor when the brothers finally broke away from the almost hypnotizing scene of what was happening. The three of you headed for the doors which were your only chance at freedom. It was barely twenty feet away–but before Dean could get his hands on the circular metal handle to give you a chance at freedom, the boys stopped dead in their tracks. Your neck was cranked over your shoulder, watching as the kept growing worse, but you didn’t notice the doors slammed shut until you roughly slammed into Sam’s back. You let out a soft groan from the pain before you looked straight ahead. A shiver went down your spine as your eyes began to widen from the bolt of fear. You were trapped with no way out.

“Guys!” You cranked your head to look at the sight again, watching for a moment as the sight unfolded. You squinted slightly when you noticed the light seemed to have gotten brighter, to the point where it almost hurt to look at. The boys tried their hardest to somehow open the door, but it was bolted shut from an inhuman force. “We need to get out of here!”

Your name wasn’t far from Dean’s lips as he put forth all of his strength at breaking down this damn door along with Sam, who was trying his hardest to fix the mistake that he made before it was too late. But it seemed all of you were fighting a losing battle. You furrowed your brow slightly when you began to hear a whining noise that seemed to suddenly seemed to jump out from the chaos that was unfolding around you. It started off quiet, then with each passing second, you could feel the pain start to settle in your ear drums. This was just like the first time you had come into contact with Cas. He tried showing you and Dean his true angel form. But all it was just a high-pitched noise, so loud, your eardrums burst, leaving you with a severe case of tinnitus that lasted for a few days before it disappeared all together. This, this was far worse.

You pressed your palms against your ears, somehow hoping it would make the noise stop, but with each passing second, the buzzing noise only seemed to be growing worse. There was no way you were going to make it out of here. You were defeated just by the noise and the blinding light that had brought you and the boys to your knees. You almost wanted to die at that very second so you wouldn’t have to endure the pain anymore. It felt like your head was going to explode from the noise alone. But you had to close your eyes when you noticed the light was getting brighter and brighter. Seconds to you felt like hours that were slowly becoming too grueling to handle. All you remembered seeing before losing consciousness was a bright, white light.

\+ + +

“What the Devil is your name?”

“Sa—S-S-Uh…S-Yo-Yosemite Sam!”

“Yosemite Sam? Hmm, let’s see. Sam…”

You could hear a male voice coming from somewhere, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint it. But with your hands pressed against your ears, it came out slightly muffled and almost too hard to understand. What you recognized was the name, Sam. Darkness was the only thing you could see. For a moment you wondered if you’d gone blind from the harsh white light that you were exposed to. Lucifer, despite the wicked reputation to his name, was still an angel with a true form that could blind anyone just from a peek. You had seen it first hand after an old friend, Pamela, had been adamant on seeing Castiel’s true face when you and Dean were pulled from Hell. She gotten to see Cas after ignoring the warnings, which remained true after she had her eyes burned out of her skull. But you felt no pain. Ever so slowly, you began to open one of your eyes, curious to see where you had landed, but it was quickly a bad option, for you were staring at the Devil.But you slowly popped an eye to see that you were staring at the Devil.

You opened the other eye quick as humanly possible when the horrid thought came to mind after what you witnessed. The Devil you were staring at was one might expect to be greet them in they were to encounter him. The creature you were staring at had his infamous blood red skin and pointy horns on the top of his head, not to mention a thinly line drawn mustache that was almost tempting to imagine him drawing his fingers around the ends and curl them, with a devilish smirk to match his soulless ego. The Devil you were staring at was projected from a small TV screen. He was a cartoon from the early fifties. You furrowed your brow when you slowly began to settle your hands back down to your sides, somehow realizing you were sitting in a rather comfortable chair. You slowly tore your eyes away from the cartoon to see that you weren’t in the convent anymore, rather, you weren’t even on the ground. It seemed you were too baffled to speak as you began to slowly examine your new surroundings. You looked out from the corner of your eye to see that you were in fact inside an airplane, tuck in the middle of two ginormous and familiar bodies.

“What the hell?”

You tore your gaze away from the screen to stare at the man sitting at the window seat, with his eyes wide, you had a feeling it wasn’t from his biggest fear that was coming true. Dean looked around the plane, unsure like you and his brother about how you got here, at least, with no physical harm done to you from what you witnessed. Sam mumbled an unsure response, confused himself from the events that were being thrown at you one after another. You wondered for a split second if this was all some sort of hallucination you were having. But you knew this was very much real. You hesitantly drew your attention to the small window overlooking the ground below you. All though you’ve flown what felt like a dozen times from your childhood, your stomach nervously twisted into knots when you saw all the lights illuminating the buildings down below, and if you squinted just enough, you could make out the dark shapes of what you presumed were cars driving on the freeway, having no clue of what the hell was going on. Life was just continuing to go through the motions as if nothing happened. You leaned back in your seat and slowly placed your hands on the arms rest. Maybe this was some kind of test from Zachariah. Inhaling a deep breath, a calming though crossed your mind. Maybe you didn’t free the Devil from the cage.

“Folks, quick word from the flight deck.” The voice coming from nowhere made you jump slightly out of your skin, somehow not expecting for that to happen. “We’re just passing over IlChester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore…” Dean was thrown through a loop when he heard the announcement. You heard him ask his brother if all of you were just in IlChester. You were. But you were too tense to answer him. “So if you’d like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time—”

The sudden explosion coming from the ground below made your calming thought disappear. Your head quickly snapped forward to the window to see the convent below, the one which you had been just a few minutes ago, explode with a bright white light. Your eyes widened for a split second before your body was lurching forward in your seat when the plane suddenly was hit with a turbulence that sent everyone screaming their head off. Everything happened so fast. The plane began shaking violently as the flight attendants around you began informing you to stay calm. Every single time you had boarded the plane you were taught the proper technique of what do you in case of an emergency. In just a split second, your hands were fumbling away from the arm rests and to the yellow oxygen mask, just like how you were taught a dozen times before.

You pressed the mask against your mouth and began inhaling deep breaths, somehow in the chaos around you, it was happening again. You heard the whining and buzzing sound in the background, just like how it was back in the convent. You had little time to think of who was doing this. When you took a second to look at the disaster erupting down below, you noticed everything around you was beginning to become swallowed whole by the bright white light. You clutched the plastic even tighter and pressed your eyelids shut, knowing the light you were about to go into wasn’t going to bring the peaceful end of death. That would be a treat. This, this was far worse.

\+ + +

“…And Governor O’Malley urged calm, saying it’s very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around your body as you nervously listened to the radio station from the backseat of the car you’d stolen. You and the boys weren’t on the plane anymore. In the midst of all the commotion, you were pulled out before harm could be done, and thrown directly into an empty field, without a single scratch on your body. There wasn’t even a scrap of evidence to find about what happened to the plane. It was as if nothing happened. Well…you furrowed your brow tightly when you realized the explosion which the host was talking about wasn’t done by a few crazy people who wanted to harm the good citizens of America. No, you did it. You could feel a wash of panic settle into your system when you realized what you’ve done. Dean tore his gaze away from the road for a moment and examined you in the rear view mirror. It wasn’t hard for him to see that you were shaken up from everything that was going on. And listening to the regular population speculate of what was going on wasn’t exactly helping the anxiety, either.

“Change the station.” Dean told his brother.

“Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area…”

“…Announced a successful test of North Korean nuclear…”

“…baffled…”

“…Swine flu…”

The radio clicked off for the last time, sending the car into a deep silence for a moment. You could hear the words still buzzing around in your mind, all which were linked to an uproar of disaster. You looked away from the neon numbers on the dashboard clock and out of the backseat window, hopeful the familiar sight of the open road would calm down your nerves. Sam leaned back into the passenger side of the car and let out a heavy breath, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He examined the interior of the car for a moment before he licked his lips. It was the big, clumsy elephant in the room that nobody could avoid anymore. Sam opened his mouth and spoke his brother’s name in a quiet tone, but it was the only thing he could get out before being cut off.

“Don’t. Don’t say anything. It’s okay.” Dean said, somehow managing to be calm. You didn’t know how he could do it. Even at the end of the world, with its terrifying consequences, not to mention all of the different situations you’ve been put under, he was still trying to be the protective older brother for the both of you. He wanted the both of you to think that this was just another case. You swallowed and bit your bottom lip out of habit when you got nervous. "We just to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?”

“Yeah,” Sam managed to respond in a quiet tone as you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“All right,” Dean adjusted his position at the wheel as he settled his gaze back upon the road. “Well, first things first-how did we end up on ‘Soul Plane’?”

“Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of out harm’s way?” You presumed without much of a care in your voice. You didn’t really give a crap right now who wanted to keep you safe. Dean managed to spend a few minutes of the drive recapping his adventures. It seemed that Cas was the one who brought him to the convent after he found out what the last seal was. Cas, the angel you’d grown to almost despise over the past year, was beginning to make you even more worried when Dean mentioned about popping by Chuck’ place. With a little archangel attached to his shoulder, you had a feeling Cas had bitten off more than he could chew. You couldn’t believe you were about to admit this, but you were afraid for the poor angel. “Well, whatever. It’s the least of our worries. We need to find Cas.”

\+ + +

The last place Cas was seen had been at Chuck’s house, at to say that it was more of a dump than you’d seen it before, well, that would be a major understatement. It looked like someone set off a bomb from the condition it was left in. Everything in the house was torn apart or ripped to shreds, you could feel an uneasiness began to settle back into your gut when your shoe accidentally crushed part of a plate with bits of glass covering the kitchen floor, but your attention settled on the toaster that laid abandoned on the ground, covered with splatter of blood. You didn’t know if it was Cas or Chuck’s blood. So far, you couldn’t see anyone else besides you and the boys, the house remained deadly silent. You tracked through the area where Chuck wrote the famous Supernatural books, which was now reduced to a flipped over table and yesterday’s newspaper matted to the carpet, along side with the computer monitor someone had took the time to crush and a keyboard with few missing letters.

There was a fine splatter of blood everyone. You moved your eyes away from the destruction and to the only remaining table that was left standing, You glanced down to see there was one of the books from the series lying face down, and by taking a peek at the tile, it was Route 666, the case which wasn’t your personal favorite as dealing with a racist trucker. Your mind didn’t linger much longer on the plot of the novel, for the creaking sounds coming from the downstairs hallway quickly captured your attention, sending your instincts back on the edge. You could dwell on the fact you had the world coming to an end, but you knew right now there were more important things to worry about. Like how demons were probably itching to have your head on the chopping block once more after you killed two of their kind, and you couldn’t forget those pesky angels. Sam decided to be the first to examine the rest of the house to see if there was any threats to try and dispose of. He quietly tracked through the kitchen, avoiding any messes, with you and Dean heavy on his heels, Sam peered outside to the living room if there was anyone.

You and the brothers stepped inside the living room to see the destruction had ended there. Everything in the rest of the house seemed to have been unharmed from whatever happened here. You broke away for a moment away from Sam as you began to linger into the living room, curious to see if you could find Chuck, hopefully in one piece. You examined most of the living room, but as the creaking began to grow louder, and closer to the three of you, you turned your head to see who the threat was. You looked just in time to see a body come from the other side of the house, and before Sam could defend himself, the person went swinging card as they could at Sam’s head. You looked straight ahead to see that it was Chuck himself, standing there with a deadly plunger, which at least had to have done some harm from the loud yelp of pain Sam let out from being attacked by the thing.

“Sam,” Chuck let out a sigh of relief to see the man standing above him, despite the dirty look he was given after what he’d done. You greeted the man as your eyebrows arched up slightly in curiosity, wondering why he was so worried about all of you. You noticed that he must have gone through a bit of hell himself from the cut to his upper cheek and his disgruntled appearance. “So…You’re okay.”

“Well, my head hurts.” Sam remarked with a rather annoyed tone.

“No, I mean—I mean, my—my last vision. You went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred.” Chuck said, discussing the fine details of what happened last night. You found yourself slipping back into the fresh memories when you heard another little detail that made you slightly wince at the remembrance. “Your eyes were black.”

“Your eyes went black?” Dean asked his little brother in a rather too calm of a tone.

Sam turned around slightly in his spot on the floor to answer the man’s question. All of you knew the representation of black eyes meant only one thing, demons. You glanced up for a second to make eye contact with Sam, knowing the both of you had been just a few feet away, but you remained silent, knowing it wasn’t your place to admit such a detail. “I didn’t know.” Sam said with a quiet voice. Dean fell silent once more from hearing the response as he slowly looked away from his brother, not admitting to anyone but himself if his brother was telling the truth.

“Where’s Cas?” You asked the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind since you gotten here. There was more important things right now than worrying about if Sam turned into a demon for a small spec of time. Your focus was finding out where the angel was. But the look that came across Chuck’s face, the unsettlement from what he was about to say made your shoulders sink down, knowing the punches of this disaster kept coming harder.

“He’s gone. Or dead. The archangel smote the crap out him.” Chuck hesitantly admitted. You let out a heavy sigh as you closed your eyes for a moment, knowing Chuck was trying to be helpful at updating the three of you of what happened here, but it only painted a gruesome picture. You opened your eyes and looked straight at him, the look on your face was clear enough to see that you wanted to know for sure if what Chuck saw was for real, he gave you an apologetic stare. “I’m sorry.”

“I mean,” Dean tried to be an optimist here. “Maybe he just vanished into the light or something.”

“Oh, no. He, like, exploded.” Chuck said. Your nose scrunched up in disturbance from the words he used to try and describe the encounter perfectly. Glancing back at the kitchen, you knew where the blood had come from, and why it looked like all hell had broken loose. “Like a water balloon of chunky soup.”

You focused your gaze once more on Chuck when you decided that being anywhere near the kitchen was making you upset. You took a few steps forward to him, hoping he could at least help what happened after Cas was used like a stress toy. You opened your mouth to ask Chuck a question, but your eyes lingered to something that settled in his hair, it must have been a piece the man missed after trying to clean himself up. “Oh, you got a…” You lifted your left hand to lightly touch your ear, knowing the small piece was nestled in there. Chuck furrowed his brow and tugged his right hand to his ear. The both of you struggled for a moment before he realized what you were doing. He adjusted the plunger to his opposite hand before moving around bits of his hair and grasping onto something small. “What is that?”

“Is that a molar? Do I have a molar in my hair?” Chuck’s voice broke in absolute fear. He examined the small and rather bloody object that was matted down to his hair. You reached out and grabbed the thing from his hand, but you immediately regretted it, knowing from the small tips at the end, it was, in fact, a tooth. You dropped it to the ground in disgust and quickly wiped your palm on your jeans. “This has been a really stressful day.”

You huffed out a breath from his remark and rolled your eyes, knowing he was right. You looked down at the tooth to see that it was apart of the vessel Cas had used for the past year. If by some chance he was still alive, the body of Jimmy Novak was reduced to nothing more than scraps and blood spatter nobody could put back together. And it was all because he was trying to help. “Cas, you stupid bastard.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

“Stupid?” You found yourself staring at Dean from across the room from what he said. Repeating his word, you gave him a look of anger. “He was trying to help us.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Dean said with a harsh tone.

“So, what now?“

"I don’t know, Y/N.”

But the petty argument that was about to disrupt between the both of you only gotten far as it started, for you had bigger problems to deal with. “Oh, crap.” Chuck’s very quiet and worried voice broke your concentration away from Dean. You looked over to see that Chuck was staring off into space, but from the worried look that was starting to spread across his face, he was concentrating hard on something you couldn’t quite her. “I can feel them.”

It was rather tempting to ask who Chuck was talking about, but you knew right away what was coming. The man standing in front of you, he was much more than the author you were first introduced by as Carver Edlund, creator and writer of the Supernatural series. He was a prophet of the Lord, and very much a magnet to the angel you were trying to avoid at this very moment. When you heard Zachariah’s voice, you winched in discomfort. “Thought we’d find you here.”

\+ + +

You could run fast as you could, but there wasn’t a chance he was going to let his two favorite pets get away just that easily. Even with the hex bag still stuffed in your back pocket, Dean was the neon sign pointing out your location, for he was on everyone’s to do list today. You allowed yourself a moment of annoyance at the sound of Zachariah’s voice before you turned around in your spot to face the angel. He was all too casual for your liking as he stood in the middle of the debris lying around in the kitchen. While he inspected a chair broken from the fight, he lightly kicked one of the legs, making the metal clatter against the floor. Your eyes trailed away from him to see that he didn’t come alone, two other angels stood behind him, quietly ready to fetch their most prized possession. Zachariah examined the mess for another second or so before glancing up to acknowledge Dean, greeting the pissed off man with a welcoming smile.

“Play time’s over, Dean.” Zachariah said, spoiling the fun the three of you were having over the past several hours. He stretched out one leg in front of him to approach the young man, as if Dean was going to lay down and do exactly what they told him to do. That wasn’t the Winchester way. It was going to be another bloody fight before Dean would do anything for the angels and their own selfish agenda. “Time to come with us.”

“You just keep your distance, ass-hat.” Dean pointed a finger at the angel, stopping him before he could move a single inch.

Zachariah stopped in his tracks like he was told, suddenly he didn’t seem so welcoming. The angel stared at the hunter with a perplexed expression, wondering why Dean was acting very cold around him. The angel had told him everything that he needed to know, honestly was a very big thing for Dean, but it seemed that still was making the man guarded. “You’re upset.” Zachariah noted with a slightly confused tone, as if he wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction.

“Yeah—a little.” Dean remarked with a sarcastic overtone, before getting to the reason why he was pissed off. “You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!”

“Maybe we let it happen. We didn’t start anything.” Zachariah corrected the young man. Your lips drew themselves into a snarling frown when you found the angel’s gaze lingering away from Dean and to his little brother for a moment, all before bringing the wink that followed right in your direction. “Right, Y/N? You had a chance to stop Sammy, and you couldn’t. Temptation to do the right thing was too good. So let’s not quibble over who started what, Dean. Let’s just say it was all our faults and move on. ‘Cause like it or not…” The angel lifted up his index finger and delicately brushed it against the leg of the damage table, inspecting what sort of mold had grown over the years from neglectful cleaning. “It’s apocalypse now. And we’re back on the same team again.”

Dean raised his brows, “Is that so?”

“You want to kill the Devil. We want to kill the Devil.” Zachariah said. “It’s synergy.”

“And I’m just supposed to trust you?” Dean scoffed at the proposal. “Cram it with walnuts, ugly.”

“This isn’t a game, son. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast,” Zachariah sounded like a sketchy used car salesman, trying his hardest to pep talk the oldest Winchester into purchasing their deal of a lifetime. Kill the Devil, and live the rest of your days in blissfulness. “Before he finds his vessel.”

“His vessel?” Sam asked, inserting himself into the conversation when he found the small detail a bit jarring. It seemed the idea of the Devil himself finding a human to use was too much for him to comprehend. “Lucifer needs a meat suit?”

“He is still an angel.” You noted, keeping your voice under a whisper so Sam could only hear. "It’d be impossible for anyone to see him for his true form without getting their eyes burned out of their skull. Not to mention if he tried speaking. You wouldn’t just get the worse tinnitus of your life.”

"Pretty and smart. Y/N knows what she’s talking about.” Zachariah remarked. He let out a light chuckle when he found your gaze lingering over to him. The glare that settled across your face was because it seemed he was making it a habit now of talking down to you. While it made your skin crawl, to him, it was nothing short of amusement on picking someone so below him. “And when he touches down, we’re talking four horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies—the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean. But you need our help.”

The offer was all too tempting, but with a deal, there was the fine print some would neglect for the greater good. Dean wasn’t going to do what he was told, at least, not from a chucklehead wearing a businessman as a meatsuit. "You listen to me, you two-faced douche,” Dean spoke up, deciding that it was time to turn the conversation around to his personal liking by showing who was really in control. “After what you did, I don’t want jack squat from you!”

“You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?” Zachariah chuckled to the measly human and his little act. He stepped forward and straightened out his shoulders so he was standing tall as his vessel was. But Dean wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated by the change of body language. Zachariah glanced down for a moment when he sniffed the air. He found it off from the heavy scent of copper. Furrowing his brow, he just so happened to glance down at Dean to see there was droplets of blood coming from his jacket sleeve. “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh, yeah. A little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up.” Dean said, letting a victorious smirk spread across his lips from the idea that you had when none of you knew what to expect. Zachariah looked at the hunter with a strange expression before the sliding double door was pulled out, showing off a familiar symbol painted in fresh human blood. You heard the angel let out a yell of protest, but before he could stop it, Dean slammed his hand against the wood. Your arms quickly stretch up to cover your eyes when you were blinded by a force of light. When the room fell into a deep silence just a few seconds after, you slowly lifted down your guard. With a heavy sigh of relief, you noticed Zachariah and his goons were gone. “Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch.”

It wasn’t a permanent solution to your problem, but you had enough time to slip under the radar for a few hours until you could scramble up something better. You reached up a hand to rub your tired eyes from the stress that you had been put under over the past several hours. At a time like this, when the world was ending, you honestly you could use a nap right now, unsure of when the last time you really had a decent night’s sleep. Everyone could agree this situation wasn’t exactly ideal, but it seemed Chuck, the man who was supposed to be a master with words, described the situation perfectly with three little words.

“This sucks ass.”

\+ + +

You jammed the loaded clip back into the pistol you were tinkering with over the past few minutes. By early afternoon you and the brothers found a decent enough motel in the middle of town to call a safe haven from what was going on in the outside world. Somehow you managed to keep yourself focused on the task at hand of keeping yourself armed for whatever might happen. You heard the familiar click of the gun’s safety as you looked upwards at the table you were sitting at. Most of the contents you and Dean had been tinkering around with were guns and bullets. The demon knife, clean from any traces of blood, remained just a few inches from your dominant side.

The both of you worked in mostly silence, not speaking anything more than just a few mumbled words of politely asking for something before going back to the task. You set down the gun and watched for a moment as Dean continued on his process of working. No matter how many times you see him work, it always intrigued you of how Dean could focus so heavily on what he was doing. Breaking apart any weapon and putting it back together was like a second nature to him, it was in his blood. You reached up and rested your elbow on the table before cradling your head in your palm. You watched him work for a few more seconds before your gaze was drawn away from him, and to the second level of the motel room when you heard the door swing open. Sam was back from wherever he rushed off to for the past hour, you greeted him with a small smile as Dean took a second to look away from the gun he’d been holding to acknowledge his brother with a small nod.

“Here.” Sam reached a hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out two small bags. Without a warning, your arm extended out and somehow grabbed at whatever he threw in your direction. You gave him a curious look before you opened up your palm, wondering what it was. “Hex bags. No way the angels will find us with those. Demons, either. For that matter.”

“Hmm. Good thinking, Sammy.” You remarked. You examined the hex bag for a moment before placing it down on the table for safekeeping. “Where’d you get it?”

“I made it.” Sam admitted with a small shrug. You didn’t make much of a fuss about it, thankful he thought of getting a few more of these. They had been proven useful in the past. But you’d burned two of them and another you’d stolen, the brothers would have been proved vulnerable without the new set. You reached out to shove it into your pocket, but Dean refrained for a moment, he asked his brother how. “I…I learned it from Ruby.“

The demon’s name made everyone shift into an uncomfortable silence, knowing she might be dead, but her memories were still fresh in your mind. You exhaled a quiet and slow breath, hoping this wouldn’t lead to a bitter fight as Dean set down the gun he’d been previously working on. He stepped away from the table and approached the banister, leaving the two steps as a close distance from his brother. "Speaking of, how you doing?” Dean curiously asked. “Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?”

“It’s weird. Uh, tell you the truth, I’m fine. No, shakes, no fever.” Sam said, seeming at lost himself for a proper explanation of what happened to him. You knew just from looking at him from your spot across the room that Sam looked much better than he had over the course of this past week, mentally and psychically. “It’s like whoever put me on that plane cleaned me right up.”

“Supernatural methadone.” You said, giving the younger man another small smile, trying to make light of the situation. “I swear, you see something new on this job everyday.”

Sam looked over in your direction, his lips barely managing to stretch themselves into a smile, all before his mind began reminding him yet again of what he’s done. Opening up his mouth to get a few things off his chest, Sam examined the motel room before finally facing his brother right in the eye. He inhaled a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips. “Guys—”

“Sammy, stop.” You cut the younger Winchester off before he could apologize for what felt like the millionth time. You pushed yourself to your feet and gave him a look, knowing well enough he shouldn’t have let the guilt be eating him up like this. Dean glanced over in your direction, when you weren’t looking, he rolled his eyes from how you were coddling the man. When the gesture went unnoticed, he turned around in his spot, going back to work on fixing up the gun that was demanding his full attention. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

Thinking that it was going to be the end of the conversation, you reached out a hand to grab the hex bag from the table and shoved it into your pocket. You understood that Sam was going through a lot right now. He had trusted a demon over his own family, sucked down demon blood like it was nothing, and faced the terrible consequence of freeing the Devil himself. But whatever you could say to him would never make him feel for how he was treating himself at this very second. Sam lightly chuckled, acting as if your words made the guilt gnawing at his chest suddenly vanish, but knowing him, you only added fuel to the fire.

“Well, that’s good. Because what can I even say? 'I’m sorry’? 'I screwed up’? Doesn’t really do it justice, you know?” Sam asked. You let out a quiet breath and shook your head at him, wondering why he was instigating so hard for what he’d done. It was only pissing off his brother. Dean kept his opinion to himself as he roughly shoved the clip back into his beloved pistol. “Look, there’s nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right—”

"So why do you keep bringing it up?!” Dean couldn’t help himself anymore when he snapped at his little brother, cutting off the long and drawn out apology which was leading them nowhere.

“Oh, great. Here comes another Winchester argument.” You muttered underneath your breath in frustration. You could feel a headache beginning to form at the thought of each brother dragging this conversation out until they were yelling at one another, saying things they didn’t mean. You dropped your hands to your side and look at each of them, Dean quickly drew his gaze away from you when he noticed you looked at his direction, he clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to fight back whatever he was tempting to follow up with. Sam let out a heavy breath from the trouble that he was causing, yet again. “Look, all I’m saying is, arguing isn’t going to help us. Why do we have to put this under a microscope? We made a mess. We clean it up. That’s it.”

You walked forward to the banister and made your way down to Sam’s direction when the room remained silent. “All right, so, say this is just another hunt.” You continued on talking, trying to get everyone focused on the bigger picture. “You know? What do we do first, Sasquatch?”

Sam wondered if making this out to be another monster of the week was the best idea. “We’d uh, figure out where the thing is.” He answered you, somehow unsure how this would really go.

“All right. So we just to to find…” You suddenly realized this plan might not be easy as one might presume. Placing your hands on your hips, you slowly drew your gaze away from Sam when you began doubting yourself with this plan you came up with on the spot. “The Devil.”

Speaking the name made you realize what kind of challenge you were up against. You still remained optimistic, knowing the other challenges you faced before in the past were solved, despite how once before they felt like it was near impossible—like it was the end of the world. You bit your bottom lip at the words that crossed your mind. The end of the world as you knew it. Dean tossed the gun he was finally done tinkering with, letting the heavy metal thunk loudly against the table, making Sam’s gaze follow where he was standing. It wasn’t hard to see that Dean was still harboring a few choice words from the glare he was giving his little brother. Sam swallowed and quickly focused on something else, letting the elephant in the room grow even larger.

\+ + +

In the midst of the world ending around you, not to mention the Devil lurking somewhere in the search of his vessel, you needed to shut your eyes for more than just five minutes. You accidentally found yourself slipping into unconsciousness when you tried reading John’s journal to see if there was anything useful to begin with. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but it was a start. But you were jerked away from your search by Sam after he noticed you were barely keeping your eyes open. When he offered to take over for a little while, you gave him a grateful smile and a thank you, before wandering away to one of the beds to occupy for at least an hour. It seemed like enough time to pull some energy together before joining Sam once more.

That was two and half hours ago. While Sam remained heavily focused on finding a solution to the problem, Dean distanced himself for a little while by watching some TV. He settled himself on top of the bed you were lying on, accidentally disturbing you from your light sleep. But you didn’t seem to be bothered. With half hooded eyes and a lazy smile, you took the opportunity to enjoy the moment. You got into your usual position of resting your head on his chest as he snaked one of his arms around your waist, pulling you closer in his embrace. You fell back asleep to him slowly tracing patterns into your hipbone after part of your shirt riled up a bit, Dean focused his attention on the news to see what was going on in the outside world.

“But then how would you explain an earthquake, a hurricane, and multiple tornadoes, all at the same time, all around the globe?”

“Two words—carbon emissions.”

You were ultimately woken up from hearing Dean mumble something underneath his breath, finding their story about everything going on around the world as some theory straight out from a nature documentary. You felt more rested than you had this morning, but you didn’t open your eyes just yet, wanting to savour this feeling before it was time to go back into the real world. You heard a bit more of the new story before Dean changed the channel to something that sounded like an afternoon soap opera. After another minute, you slowly began to retract your hand away from Dean’s chest, you inhale a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent you’d grown to love from Dean. But something felt off when you touched him. You furrowed your brow when you suddenly wondered why his clothes felt so sticky. When you breathed in the scent again, you were suddenly hit with an overwhelming stench of rich copper. You knew what the smell was from anywhere.

Ripping your eyelids open, you discovered a sight that made you nearly jump out of your skin in absolute fright. You pushed yourself to a sitting position and tried to get away from what you were seeing. Blood, there was blood everywhere. You let out a shaky breath when you examined the motel sheets to see they were saturated with a crimson red substance, when you slowly looked down at yourself, you realized it was all over you, from your clothes to your arms. You slowly look upwards when you heard someone calling out your name in a worried tone. Dean was sitting at the edge of the bed, his brow slightly furrowed as he stared at you with concern, wondering what was going on. You noticed right away he was covered in blood himself, but it was like he remained unfazed from what was going on.

“Blood,” You manage to whisper something out as your index finger pointed to his shirt, noticing that it was sticking to his skin. Dean pushed himself to his feet and circled around the bed, seeing just from the look in your eye, something was happening. He quietly shushed you from speaking as he ushered you to sit down on the bed to calm down. “I-I think something—”

“Everything fine. You’re just fine, sweetheart.” Dean ushered you back down to the bed before he sat down right next to you. He lightly placed his hands on your arms so he could steady you. You managed to inhale a deep breath when he quietly ushered you to, knowing what was happening was nothing more than a fit brought from the stress unfolding around you. Sam abandoned the journal and jumped from his chair, wondering himself of what was going on. Just five minutes ago you were peacefully sleeping, now he was leaning over the banister, watching as you breathed in tune with Dean, slowly coming down from some kind of hallucination. “There’s no blood, Y/N. You’re fine. You’re safe.”

Knocking on the motel door made your eyes jump away from the concerned face of Dean. You accidentally jumped a few inches in the air from the unexpected visitor, but Dean quietly soothed you, mumbling something that it was going to be okay. You slowly looked away from him and back to the bed when he retracted a hand away from you to grab his loaded gun he kept under the pillow for safety. You furrowed your brow in absolute confusion when you looked again. There was no blood, and when you blinked to make sure, everything remained back to normal. You let out a shaky breath as you closed your eyes for a moment, you placed a hand on your head when you began to feel a pounding sensation kick start in your head. Hallucinations and migraines? It seemed like Sam’s symptoms jumped from him and made its way to you.

Sam tore his gaze away from the scene long enough to realize there was somebody at the door. He quietly headed down the two steps before making his way over. Peering down into the peephole, he noticed it was a young woman in her early twenties, she seemed innocent enough. But looks can be deceiving. Sam unlocked the door before cautiously twisting the door handle, he cracked open the door just a few inches to stare at the stranger. The woman cranked her neck upwards to stare at him, and with widening eyes, she let out a gasp, like she was surprised to be greeted by him. Sam raised his brows, wondering what the hell was going on with her.

“You okay, lady?” Sam asked, silently wondering if she would stop staring at him like this.

“Sam, is it really you?” The stranger asked him, her voice breaking in hopefulness. Sam wasn’t nothing but confused at what was happening. He looked over his shoulder for just one second, wondering if you or Dean happened to know this woman, but his head immediately snapped forward when he felt something press against his chest. He glanced down to see the woman had took it upon herself to inappropriately touch him without warning. Her lips stretched into a wobbly grin when she felt muscle he’d gained from the few decades of hunting. “And you’re so firm.”

“Do I know you?” Sam cautiously asked.

“No. But I know you. You’re Sam Winchester. And you,” The woman finally drew her hand away from Sam when she peered over his body. Suddenly it was like she was back into her fit again, with bright eyes and a grin, she stared at you with absolute wonder. “You’re the Y/N Y/L/N! You’re my idol. And you’re so pretty in person. The books don’t do you justice. Just—oh my God.” Your face scrunched in confusion from what the woman was rambling on about, Sam shrugged his shoulders when you wondered what was going on with her. The woman finally looked away from you to stare at her, but her reaction wasn’t the same as yours and Sam’s when she took a moment to inspect Dean. “You…are not what I pictured.”

You raised your brows, "Who the hell are you?”

“Oh! I’m Becky. I read all about you guys.” She greeted you with another bright smile, deciding to take it upon herself to walk into the motel room, just inviting herself in. You let out a heavy sigh in frustration when you realized what she was, a fan. She walked over to the bed you were sitting on with Dean, and again, her lips were stretching into a toothy grin just at the sight of you and Dean sitting on the bed. “Oh my God. You guys are so cute! Are you two dating? I mean, it’d be a shame if you weren’t. Chuck wouldn’t tell me. He said this was more important. But I couldn’t resist knowing. I mean, you guys are my OTP.”

Dean gave her a confused look from what she rambling on about, “OT—what?”

“It means 'one true pairing,’ Fans do this really cool thing called shipping. Basically it’s just when we like two characters so much, we want them together. That’s’s called shipping. But if they like the ship the most out of all their other ones, we call them an OTP. You guys were mine. Too bad it never went canon. But you two are just one of my pairings. I don’t just settle with just the basic stuff. I like to dabble with my artistic side. I’ve even written a few—” Becky nervously giggled to herself at the personal fanfiction she liked to write in her free time. She remembered the dirty little fic she was previously writing, but from the deadpan stare you were giving her, it seemed you weren’t interested today in hearing about her hobbies. “Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were.”

“Chuck?” Dean asked, using the author’s real name.

Becky nodded her head as Sam shut the door, giving the four of you some privacy. “He’s got a message, but he’s being watched. Angels.” She explained. Her lips stretched into a smile, like this was all some adventure she was apart of, and not real life. “Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old.”

“This conversation is getting old,” You hissed at her with annoyance. You let out a quiet sigh and rubbed your aching head, not meaning to snap at her. “Sorry. What’s the message?”

“He had a vision. 'The Michael sword is on Earth. The angels lost it.’“ Beck recited word for word what Chuck had told her to say. You and the brothers stared at her for a moment, wondering what she meant by that. Sam asked if Chuck happened to know where it was being kept. "In a castle on a hill made of forty-two dogs.”

You pushed yourself to your feet and walked over to her, seeming to find her answer nothing short of ridiculous. You glanced over at the brothers, wondering if they were understanding what she was trying to say. “Are,” Sam looked away from you and back to Becky. “You sure you got that right?”

“It doesn’t make sense, but that’s what he said to me.” Becky explained, but you could see her attention was slipping away from the conversation when she began to take slow steps forward to Sam. You bit your bottom lip when you realized that Becky must be having one hell of a day. All the trouble was worthwhile, just to see the man she’d fantasized about for twenty-four books was, in fact, very real. She reached out a hand again to place it upon his chest to feel the muscle she had only dreamed of caressing like this. “I memorized every word. For you.”

“Uh,” Sam cleared his throat and looked over at his brother, hopeful Dean would lore Beck away from him. But the man just stood there with his hands crossed over his chest, slightly amused at the torture he was being put under. “Becky, c—uh, can you…quit touching me?”

Becky shook her head and verbally mumbled a no, she ignored the man’s pleads as she continued to lose herself in this one in a lifetime opportunity. It lasted another moment before her hand began to draw itself down lower so she could feel his abs, you decided it was enough of seeing poor Sam suffer his way through this. “Okay!” You rescued the man by stepping forward and grabbing Becky by the wrist, leading her to the door. “It was great to meet you, Becky. You’ve been a great help.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure—”

You gave her a friendly smile when she stood out in the hallway, but before she could finish her sentence, you slammed the door right on the poor woman’s face. Letting out a heavy sigh, you turned around in your spot after locking the deadbolt and leaned against the door, rolling your eyes when you heard Becky shout something about loving you before her footsteps faded away. You glanced over at Sam when Dean began to chuckle, wondering what the hell just happened.

\+ + + 

You peered down at the city street below and watched as life went on, the occasional car would pass by to their next destination and the bystander on the street walking to wherever they were going. Sometimes you wondered what it was like to wonder about mundane things like social events and paying your monthly bills before they were due. You had those set of responsibilities what felt like an entire lifetime ago. Any other day you would brush off the ache for your normalcy, the blissful ignorance of evil that lurked in the darkness, knowing you were doing something good to slow it down. Today you would do just about anything to have five minutes to forget about your troubles. You examined the outside for a few more seconds as you pushed the curtain farther to the side, you bit your bottom lip when you noticed the sight hadn’t changed since the last time you looked. The anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach began to grow worse when you reminded yourself it was only a few hours for Bobby to drive, he should have been here by now. As you reached for your cell phone to give him a call, your eyes trailed away from the floorboards and back the street when you heard the familiar rumble of an engine.

You could feel the end of your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of the Impala and all her beauty. It’d been only a few days since you seen her last, but you were nothing more than grateful to see the car once more. You watched as the car parked into the street, and just a few seconds later, Bobby Singer stepped out with his trucker hat in hand. You stepped back from the window when you watched him disappear into the motel entrance building, and just a minute later, knocking on the door. You crossed the brothers when you knew who the visitor was and didn’t hesitate a single second to swing open the door to greet the hunter you had been worried sick about you. Giving him a welcoming smile, you embraced Bobby into a hug, somehow thankful that you had a chance to see him again. Out of anyone in this field, he was the man you knew who could help you.

“Y’all had me worried sick.” Bobby started off the lecture like any father figure would. He patted you on the back before giving each of the brothers a hug, knowing these several days have been nothing but tough on all of you. “But it’s good to see you kids all in one piece.”

Dean shut the door and bolted it shut after making sure the hallway was clear of any strange faces that could pose a threat. While he was happy himself for this little reunion, he knew Heaven and Hell would do just about anything to track them down, and Bobby was the weak link to there whereabouts. He knew the hunter had more experience than all of you combined, but he still had to be sure. “You weren’t followed, were you?” Dean cautiously asked.

“You mean, by angels, demons or Sam’s new superfan?” Bobby wondered which threat the oldest Winchester meant.

Sam scoffed when the dreaded subject was brought up once more, “You heard.”

“I heard, Romeo.” Bobby said. He looked at the younger man with a bit of sympathy for the details he was given over the phone. Sam glanced over at his brother, wondering if he’d been the one to rat Becky out after he went on about how creepy she was. But soon enough it was all eyes on you when Bobby trailed his attention over to you. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing Bobby might have gotten a kick out of it like you had. “So, sword of Michael, huh?”

“You think we’re talking about the actual sword from the actual arcangel?” You wondered as you raised your brows in curiosity.

“You better freaking hope so.” Bobby replied. You and the boys crowded around the table after Bobby made another trip to the Impala to fetch a few books from the research he did before coming over. He opened up a heavy and large look book, cracking it open to the exact page he’d observed after getting the call from you. You leaned forward in your seat to examine the painting of the archangel. Bobby pointed to the angel who was portrayed by hovering over a bed of clothes with a weapon in his hand, along with at least a dozen of his own kind standing behind him. “That’s Michael—toughest sumbitch they got.” 

You curiously examined the book as you reached out to turn the page, wondering if there was anything you could read more up on the angel. “You kidding me? Tough?” Dean found himself remarking on the appearance as he leaned over your shoulder, staring at the picture for some time. You tilted your head to the side and examined it for a bit longer to see what would give him such an impression. “That guy looks like Cate Blanchett.”

“Well, most biblical artwork we see today was probably done during the renaissance era when people were flourishing in education and famous painters like Michelangelo and Da Vinci, which explains why most of them are either half naked or pretty feminine.” You accidentally found yourself going on about a subject you didn’t know a lot about, and drifting away from the one you spent an hour before Bobby came over. When the room fell silent, you bit your bottom lip to see the boys and Bobby were staring at you, wondering where you were going with this. “Basically looks are deceiving. You wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

“He commands the heavenly host.” Bobby explained more of what made Michael so powerful and to be feared. “During the last big dust-up upstairs, he’s the one who booted Lucifer’s ass to the basement. And he did it with that sword. So if we can find it…”

“We can kick the Devil’s ass all over again.” Sam finished the older man’s presumption. You glanced upwards from the book, just in time to make eye contact with Sam for a split second, but it was enough time to see there was a glint of hope. All of you had a lead that sounded more like a riddle given by Becky, but it was better than nothing. You let out a sigh, suddenly feeling better than you had this morning. “All right, so where do we start?”

“Divvy up and start reading—try to make sense of Chuck’s nonsense.” Bobby said, nodding his head at the book in front of you both to start with. “I’ve got more in the Impala. Why don’t you and Y/N make yourselves useful by lugging them up here?”

\+ + + 

At least a dozen books were sprawled around the room, a few were with Sam and Bobby as they occupied the table, Dean took one to try and make himself useful, all while you kept yourself isolated on the bed. You worked better alone without much distraction to keep your attention, it was just what you had been used to. The remaining books that left unclaimed were at the edge of the bed just a mere foot away from where you sat cross legged with a dusty book of lore propped open in your lap. You finished reading the last sentence of a page you had been skimming before your hand reached out to turn the page, curious for what else you could learn about. You looked up for a brief second when you noticed someone was heading in your direction. Sam abandoned his work at the table for a brief moment to grab another book from the bed you were sitting on. You gave him a single look over to acknowledge his presence before you went back to reading.

Sam, however, couldn’t get himself concentrate much longer, for this hour felt like nothing but mental torture, the worst it’d been yet today. The man couldn’t sit just a few feet away from the hunter who had treated him like his own son. It wasn’t fair for Bobby to be kept in the dark. Sam let out a heavy sigh, finding his lingering gaze jumping around the room. You sat on the bed with your head settled down so your view was concentrated solely on the dusty book you cradled. Dean tried his hardest to look busy. The younger Winchester tried to examine the books in front of him once more, but his gaze lingered away, his head twisted slightly to examine Bobby from the corner of his eye. It seemed that his nervousness was easy to read when Bobby spoke up with a concerned tone.

“Kid? You all right?”

The answer could have easily been told with another lie, but Sam was so tired of lying to all of you. “No, actually.” The younger Winchester answered with an honest answer he’d been dying to say since Bobby walked through the motel door. You broke your concentration away from reading when you heard what Sam was about to admit. “Bobby, this is all my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Sam…” You hissed the man’s name underneath your breath as you slammed the book shut with a loud thump, somehow hoping it would be enough to break Sam out of this guilt trip he had been on since coming back from the convent. But he kept going. He took the blame for everything.

“Lilith did not break the final seal. She

the final seal.” Sam couldn’t help himself but continue on. You frantically pushed yourself to your feet and ordered him to shut up. He ignored you once more. "I killed her, and I set Lucifer free.”

“You what?!” Bobby questioned the younger man.

“You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn’t listen.” Sam apologized to Bobby for the trouble he caused over the past several days. But this was way of trying to formally apologize to all of you. Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you crossed your arms over your chest. There wasn’t a chance you could give your word in, and even if you did, nothing would compare to what he’d done. In the back of your mind you knew it was Sam’s fault. But you didn’t want Sam to take the blame. “I brought this on.”

The room fell into complete silence for a moment. You looked away from the younger Winchester when you heard the legs of Bobby’s chair he’d been occupied scrape against the wooden floors. Bobby, the hunter who had ripped you a new one after he found out you sold your soul, the one who’d listened to you admit about your past which would make any hunter kill you and not hug you as you cried your eyes out. The hunter who would have rather seen Sam suck down demon blood than die. You thought he would be the man standing up with that scowl and sour look on his face, you knew it too well. Your mother had given it to you several times when you accidentally messed up so badly you thought it was the end of the world. Sure, she was mad, but she also consoled you in the blink of an eye. Bobby openly admitted he thought of you like his own kids, and did it mean he would put all of you in your place when it was needed. He stalked forward to the young man and stood at the edge of the small staircase, Sam let out a shaky breath.

“You’re damn right you didn’t listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant.” Bobby scolded him like he deserved to. Sam listened to everything without a single word of protest. And for that, he replied with a whispered apology. Bobby narrowed his eyes on the man as he took a few steps forward until he was closer to him. “Oh, yeah? You’re sorry you started armageddon? This kind of thing don’t get forgiven, boy.” The younger Winchester nodded his head, agreeing with what the man was saying, thinking that he deserved all of this. But what Bobby said made you look at him with absolute anger. “If, by some miracle, we pull this off…I want you to lose my number. You understand me?”

Sam wasn’t expecting that kind of response from the man. You furrowed your brow in frustration as you remained silent, watching as the poor boy tried his hardest to remain in check of his emotions. You looked away for just a split second to stare at Dean, who stood in the background, not even saying a single word. “There’s an old church nearby.” Sam spoke up after a moment’s silence. “Maybe I’ll go read some of the lore books in there.”

“Yeah.” Bobby agreed with a cold tone. “You do that.”

You squeezed your arms tighter around your body, trying to suppress every ounce of anger that was bubbling to the surface that was unfolding. The logical part of you was trying to keep your opinion buried deep down. Bobby had a right to react like this. But you couldn’t help yourself think this was out of character for him to be reacting like this. You always thought he wouldn’t turn the brothers away, no matter what they did. But it seemed everyone had to draw the line somewhere. Yet you refused to be that person for Sam.

\+ + +

Dusk was beginning to set when you headed down to the Impala to fetch the remaining books Bobby had mentioned about having. You hadn’t spoken a single word to either men since Sam left a few hours ago, and while it seemed childish to display your anger with such behavior, it was better than saying something you might regret. You managed to sneak a voicemail to Sam about having him call you. There wasn’t a chance you were going to let him be alone at a crucial time like this. You let out a sigh when you headed down the hallway of the motel, reaching the room number with three more books in your hands, you desperately wanted to avoid any contact with the two men inside. But you remained the bigger person in this situation. The quicker you find out where this sword was, the faster you could put the Devil back where he belonged.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you opened up the door and stepped inside the room. Dean and Bobby remained at the table with the books claimed as their own. You went on your way to the bed with your books as you slammed the door shut with your foot, silently proving your point of still being pissed off. You turned your back on them and tossed the pile to the bed. Bobby stopped reading the book once you stepped back into the room. He silently watched you for a moment or so. When you reached down to grab a random book from the pile, you stopped when you heard him speak to Dean for the first time since Sam left. All though he was quiet, you knew his volume was just loud enough so you could hear him.

“I never would have guessed that your daddy was right.” Bobby sparked up a conversation with an opener that seemed vague, but you knew exactly what he was hinting around. Dean glanced away from the book to stare at the hunter, wondering what he meant by that. “About your brother. What John said—you save Sam or you kill him. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” You turned around in your spot to face the hunter. You stared at him dead in the eye when you heard him trail off for a moment, as if he was hesitant to speak what was on his mind. You let a fraction of your anger show when you snapped at him. “You’ve had a lot to say today. Spit it out, old man.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have tried so hard to save him.” Bobby came out with it just a second later. You scoffed as you shook your head in disbelief, Dean quietly whispered the man’s name, not wanting to have this argument. “He ended the world. And you and I weren’t strong enough to stop him proper. That on us—and you too, Y/N. No matter how much you want to stand there and pout. Your dad was right, Dean.”

You didn’t find yourself changing your mind on how you stood from what Bobby said. But it seemed the mention of John sparked an idea from Dean. Your attention was torn away from the conversation to see Dean push himself out of his chair, abandoning the books for the duffel bag lying on the other motel bed not far from where you were standing. He began to rifle through it like a madman, searching for something you weren’t sure of. You watched as he tossed around wrinkled shirts until he pulled out a plastic baggie which contained most of John’s fake I.D.s. you and the boys had no use for, well, until now. He opened up the bag and pulled out a laminated card no bigger than the rest of the things inside. You gave him a look as Bobby got out of his seat, wondering what was making Dean grin like he’d won the lottery. Following behind Dean, you joined him back up where Bobby stood, both of you silently wondering what the older Winchester was so happy about.

“It’s a card from my dad’s lockup in upstate New York.” Dean explained. He handed over the card for you to inspect. “Read it.”

You had been there once a few years ago with the brothers after getting a call about someone trying to break in. John had collected a variety of belongings during his time while hunting. One in particular you’d came across was a cursed rabbit’s foot that would grant anyone who touched it with a streak of amazing luck, but if lost, you would lose such fortune, and be cursed with death as bad luck would follow. “‘Castle Storage. Forty-two Rover hill.’” You read off the address, not thinking for why this would be of such importance, that was, until it clicked in your head a moment later. “Castle on a hill of forty-two dogs—Son of bitch. You might actually be onto something.”

"So you think your dad had the Michael sword all this time?” Bobby wondered.

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted. “I’m not sure what else Chuck would have meant.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Bobby nodded his head in agreement. “It’s good enough for me.”

You should have seen this coming from earlier this afternoon. You and Dean examined the business card for a moment or so, until you found yourself stumbling off to the side when Bobby managed to swing a punch directed at Dean. The card slipped out from your grip as it began to drift into the air, your head snapped backwards as you watched Dean fly backwards from the punch. He broke through the wooden banister and fell onto the bed, only before bouncing off the mattress and landing roughly on the floor, leaving him immobile for just a second, giving Bobby a chance to deal with you. But you had a feeling it wasn’t the hunter. When you stared at him directly in the eye to confront him, you suddenly felt your gut twist at what you saw. Eyes black as night stared at you, making you realize Bobby wasn’t himself, for he was possessed by a demon.

You had little reaction time to handle this situation. The demon knife was sitting on the nightstand just across the room, but even if you somehow managed to get a hold of it, you could never hurt the man trapped inside his own body. You tried a different route. You decided on the fact Bobby could live with a few bruises as you reached up to try and take a swing at him yourself, but the demon showed he was more powerful than you. He grabbed a hold of your arm, roughly pinning it down, but as you tried to use the other, it only proved to be a bad move. Before you could stop it, Bobby roughly grabbed a fistful of your shirt before he threw you backwards, making you land straight on your back, knocking the wind right out of your lungs.

You winced in pain as you struggled for a second to recover. While your mind focused on grabbing the demon knife on the table, you found it soon only as that when Bobby headed forward to Dean after tossing him around a bit more, just to be safe. You heard the motel door open and two pairs of footsteps enter the room, knowing your luck, Sam wasn’t amongst the crowd. You tried your hardest to push yourself to your feet, but it seemed someone decided to help you. A hand grabbed a hold of your shirt, forcing you upwards to your feet, but before you could fight your way out of another demon’s grip, your wrists were snatched into the demon’s hand, pinning them against your backside. You were yanked around in your spot to be forced to see that Bobby held Dean by his throat, leaving you in an quite a bind. Looking away from the two men, your eyes trailed over to a woman you’d never seen before. She seemed to be having the time of her life from the grin on her face, you watched as she found the infamous demon knife and snatchd it from the spot on the nightstand. Inspecting it for a second, she flicked her wrist, twirling it around, curious to see how it felt to play with.

“I always knew you were big, dumb, slow, dim pain in the ass, Dean. But I never dreamt you were so V.I.P.” The demon gave her full attention to the hunter as she raised a brow. “I mean, you’re gonna ice the Devil? You? If I’d have known that, I’d have ripped your pretty, pretty face off ages ago.”

Every demon that had come across the knife stayed in Hell, killing them and the human which they possessed. But you had a feeling this demon had friends in all the low places to bring her back to life for another round. “Ruby.” You hissed her name with a venomous tone. “Like a cockroach.”

“Is that a way to treat an old friend, Y/N? Try again, sweetcheeks.” The demon corrected you. “Go further back.”

You looked at her, wondering what demon you had come across before, but from her attitude, you knew who it was. The demon who played a little charade, kidnapped you and John, not to mention possessing Sam before disappeared all those years ago. The one who had been here since the beginning. “Meg?”

“Hi, Y/N. Thought I’d never see your face again. But I couldn’t resist popping back in after I heard the good news. These are the days of miracle and wonder, kids. Our fathers among us. You know we’re all dreaming again for the first time since we were human? It’s Heaven on Earth. Or Hell.” Meg said. She turned her head to acknowledge your presence, and for an added effect, she gave you a playful wink. “Really, I stopped by for a few reasons. Wanted to congrats Dean-o over here by growing a pair and finally getting the girl. About time if you asked me. Where’s Sammy, by the way? We really owe him a fruit basket.“

"My God,” Dean cut off the demon, annoyed from hearing the one sided conversation that felt like it had no end. “You like the sound of your own voice.”

"You see, I only swung by here to see Y/N, you know, catch up like old friends. I thought we’d chat for a bit keep each other company until Lucifer finds his vessel. And when he does, I’m sure his first request is to see his lovely little prodigy. I’m going to be the one who does it.” Meg decided it was only fair to explain her reasoning of popping out of the blue. She pointed the knife at the hunter, knowing there was a small clinch in her plan. “But you, Dean, on the other hand, you’re the only bump in the road. So every demon—every single one—is just dying for a piece of you.”

Dean wasn’t the least bit afraid of the threat, this was nothing new for him. He stared at the demon straight in the eye and chuckled, “Get in line.”

“Oh, I’m in the front of the line, baby.” Meg whispered with an arrogant grin as she leaned forward, dangerously close to your personal liking. The demon eyed you for a moment or so, knowing what she was about to do was only to ruffle your feathers. Without a warning, she grabbed ahold of Dean by the chin and smashed her lips against his. If you weren’t pissed before, you were about murder the bitch when you got your hands on her. The kiss lasted a painfully slow few seconds before Meg pulled away with a sloppy puckering sound. She licked her lips, savouring the taste of the man as she looked over at you with a smirk, knowing this wasn’t the worst of what she had planned. “You know, your surrogate Daddy’s still awake—screaming in there. And I want him to know how it feels slicing the life out of your little boyfriend while you watch.”

The anger you had felt just a moment ago was now suddenly replaced with fear from what she had planned. Meg let her lips stretch into a grin as your eyes grew wide. Despite your protests, the demon possessing Bobby grabbed a hold of the knife from Ruby and wasted not even a single second bringing the blade to Dean’s neck. You watched in horror as Dean was pinned against the wall to make this easier. You struggled hard as you could to somehow get out of this, but it seemed each twist you tried to do, was only replaced with the demon holding you to tighten his grip. You weren’t giving up hope. Bobby was still in there, he just needed to wake up before it was too late. You needed something to distract him, but how?

You had little time to think as the knife began to slowly draw itself into the air. Dean struggled much as he could to get out of his before it was too late. "Bobby, no!” You pleaded with the man, hoping if you screamed loud enough, it would make this plan worked. What you got a response was a sudden explosion from the lamp right next to him, it sure made everyone jump from the unexpectedness of it. You furrowed your brow, wondering how it happened, but you didn’t care. It was enough for Bobby to take control. The hunter that you knew, he came back in control, just in time to realize what he was about to do. He peered upwards at the knife he was holding and then back at Dean, whose expression was nothing but fearful at the things that were unfolding. Bobby didn’t hesitate from what he did next. You let out a gasp of surprise when he plunged the knife into his stomach, killing the demon inside of him. All though this wasn’t what you wanted, it was the perfect distraction to get ahold of the situation.

You stomped your foot of the demon who was holding you hard as you could and slammed your head against his, momentarily stunning him. You turned around in your spot and swung a punch at him, Dean tried taking down Meg himself, but she proved to be a bit more of a bitch than you last remembered her. You struggled to keep down the demon as the door to the motel opened up, making Sam step into a messy situation he was never expecting to see. The initial shock of seeing Bobby lying on the floor with a knife in his stomach lasted mere moments before he was greeted by Meg, who managed to take Dean down long enough for her to say a proper hello to his little brother.

The demon you were trying to fight off managed to overpower you for just a second, you were thrown to the ground, giving him a chance to work on Dean after he lunged forward to attack. You tried recovering fast as you could, wondering for a second of who to help. But your attention was drawn to another knife the demon pulled out from his pocket. You didn’t know what happened next. The thought came…and it happened. You quickly swung up an arm, and by some invisible force, the demon was pinned against the wall, momentarily giving Dean a chance to take control of the situation as he found the demon knife, forcing himself to rip it out of Bobby’s lifeless body.

You pinned the demon against the wall before you felt something hard hit you in the side of the head, breaking the demon free. You let out a groan of pain when you felt yourself going forward after someone attacked you from behind. Your hands fumbled upwards to Meg’s wrists when she grabbed a chunk of your hair, yanking your neck at an awkward angle to see what you’ve done. She examined you for a second or so, her eyes trailed down to the little trickle of blood that began to seep from your nose. She let out a little chuckle, seeming amused from the little trick.

“Oh, is Y/N using her super-special demon powers since Sammy can’t get it up anymore? Seems like I owe you an apology. You’re not just a useless mutt, after all.” Meg taunted you with a bitterly sweet voice. “I was told we aren’t allowed to kill you. Orders are orders. But I’m sure a few bruises won’t hurt. For old times sake, huh?”

You could see from the corner of your eye Meg was about to keep true to her promise as she reached upwards to take a swing she’d been dying to do. But before she could, the demon looked up just in time to see she was outnumbered, another body of the man that accompanied her now laid on the floor, dead. She quickly let go of you and pushed herself to her feet when Dean began to slowly approach her with the knife, the predatory look in his eye was clear she was cornered with no way out. Meg had a reputation to keep, and a grudge to hold. Before Dean could finally kill the demon, she opened her mouth, making her escape into the night, leaving you alone as the cloud of black smoke disappeared into the vent.

Letting out a shaky breath from the situation that had unfolded, your gaze lingered away from the woman Meg had possessed, and to Bobby. You quickly pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the stumble you had after being hit with a sudden dizzy spell you had. You stumbled back to your knees as you quickly pushed Bobby to his backside, hoping—praying—he was still alive. You couldn’t lose him, not at a time like this. You kept telling yourself that he was dead. With shaky hands and eyes glazed over, you forced yourself to press two fingers against the crook of his neck. You waited a second or two…until you felt it. You felt a pulse.

“He’s alive.” The words came stumbling out of your mouth so quietly, you didn’t even hear it yourself, thinking for a split second it was a trick your mind was playing on you. But when you felt the weak thump of a heartbeat against your index finger, you knew it was true. You quickly looked over your shoulder to look at the boys with widening eyes. “Oh my God. He’s alive!”

\+ + +

The emergency room on a Thursday night was busier than you expected. Most of the people inside were mothers with their small children nestled close as they violently coughed, the parental instincts told them they were too sick to wait for the doctor’s office to open tomorrow morning. A few civilians nursing their broken legs and sprained wrists would just have to wait. You shoved open the swinging doors to the emergency room with no patience of the other people waiting around you. The brothers followed behind, just mere inches from you, as they carried a nearly conscious Bobby after you managed to get him awake during the car ride here. You frantically stopped dead in your tracks with a bloodied towel in your hands and looked around for a nurse who wasn’t busy tending to a patient. You waited a mere five seconds to see if anybody would notice you were standing next to a bleeding man. But when you went unnoticed, you rolled your eyes, letting a fraction of your pent up anxiety come to the surface when you spotted a nurse rushing down the hall.

“We need some help here!” You hissed at anyone who would listen.

The nurse you spotted from down the hall stopped dead in her tracks when she heard your voice. She turned her head to see your glaring expression, but her focus was kept on the man who couldn’t even stand on his own two feet. Managing to pass by another nurse and a daughter with a bloody nose, she rushed forward to figure out the problem. “What happened?” She questioned.

“He was stabbed.” You blurted out the truth, knowing there wasn’t a chance some little white lie was going to save Bobby’s life. You would deal with the repercussions later. He’d lost too much blood when Dean pulled out the knife to take down the demon. You glanced down for a split second to stare at your hands, the small towel you grabbed from the bathroom was sopping wet and soaked through with a crimson stain no amount of bleach would ever get out. You nervously swallowed when you flexed out your fingers, noticing Bobby’s blood stained your skin and the cracks of your cuticles.

“Get me a gurney!” The nurse called out to one of the women behind the front desk who was observing a patient’s chart. Not even a second later you saw a few people rush over with the gurney the nurse asked for. You stepped out of the way as the brothers worked with the paramedics to help Bobby onto the stretcher. You nervously swallowed from everything that was happening all at once. While Bobby was rushed off to the wing of the hospital that wasn’t meant for civilians, it didn’t stop the boys from trying to follow behind and getting vocal when the nurse lightly pushed Sam back, despite him being almost a foot taller. “I’m sorry. Just don’t move. I’ve got questions—starting with you, young lady.”

You looked away from the double doors that had closed by now, but from the frosted glass, you could see Bobby being pulled further down the hall until he disappeared. You furrowed your brow when you noticed the nurse was pointing her pen in your direction. “What?”

“Your nose.” She said, pointing the pen further up to direct everyone’s attention to the trickle of dried blood that hung from the left nostril. You lifted your hand upwards to lightly touch the blood that you didn’t realize was still there from earlier. “I have a feeling that’s not his blood. Do you have a headache? Possibly suffered a head trauma?”

Remembering how Meg smashed the motel phone against the side of your head, a migraine had been pounding since you left for the hospital. It’s been hurting since this afternoon. You found the truth slipping out again faster from your mouth before you could stop it. “Well, yeah. But—”

“No buts.” The nurse cut you off, she gave you a serious look as she began to walk backwards to the trauma wing to tend to the patients. “It sounds like you have a concussion. I highly suggest you check yourself in for an x-ray.”

You opened your mouth once more to protest, but before she could listen, the nurse disappeared into the hallway, letting the double doors swing, you caught glimpses of her as she descended down the hall. Letting out a sigh, you listened to her suggestions with a grain of salt as you headed for the bathroom to quickly the blood off your hands. You made it a mere five steps before Dean’s frame stopped you dead in your tracks. Your face scrunched up as you looked up at him, wondering what he as trying to do. “Maybe you should stay here, Y/N. Stay with Bobby and get yourself checked out.”

“No!” The answer came out louder than you had anticipated. You let out a breath as your eyes drifted away from Dean and to the small crowd of people that curiously observed, wondering what your small outburst was about. You threw daggers at a mother who quietly shifted her gaze away and cradled her child. Inhaling a deep breath, you looked back at the man in front of you. “I’m fine. The demons heard where the sword is. We got to get to it before they do, if we’re not too late already. Give me two minutes and we’ll be on the road.”

You didn’t give any room to protest when you stepped out of the way and headed to the bathroom, where you were given a moment’s peace. You tossed the dirty towel into the trash and headed for the sink. Loading your hands up with soap, you scrubbed hard as you could to wash away the blood that stained your skin after you turned on the faucet. You watched as the water began to run red, but slowly as you washed away the soap, the color began to slowly fade pink. You scrubbed your skin until it felt raw and turned a bright red from how hot of a temperature you used. When you saw that all the blood was gone, you turned off the water and reached for the paper towels. You let out a sigh as you finally let your eyes linger to the mirror to see the consequences of your actions. Nervously swallowing, you leaned forward to the mirror and began washing away the dried blood, pretending as if nothing happened. But in your mind you knew. You knew what they saw you did.

\+ + +

The drive from Maryland to New York should have took about six hours, Dean made it under four. You kept the worries for Bobby in the back of your mind, using your anxious feeling as ammunition for the fight that might break out again. The brothers prepared for the worst by loading up on iron bullets as you pocketed the demon knife into the back of your jeans for safekeeping. You pumped the loaded shotgun Sam had given you and focused your attention away from the trunk. The neon sign for the warehouse building stuck out like a sore thumb on the darkness brought on from the time being late at night. You hoped Meg was in there and was stupid enough to step into a devil’s trap. It would be easier that way when you stabbed her for what she’s done.

You waited until Dean slammed the trunk shut before you began heading forward to the storage space. Sam took the left side as you pressed yourself against the concrete wall, letting Dean do the honors of opening up the heavy metal door. You watched with the shotgun positioned for use as he shoved the key into the lock. It took mere seconds before you heard the faint click of a release, Dean undid the lock and looked at his brother than you to get ready. You watched as Dean began pushing open the door, Sam took a step forward as you followed behind. The street lights from outside poured light into the storage space, as you stepped behind Dean to inspect the area, you were taken back at laid on the floor just a mere few feet from where you were standing.

Two bodies laid on the concrete ground with a small pool of blood at their head. You inspected them closely as you began to approach after the boys continued to take the lead. You kicked the female to see if she was alive, but she shifted back into place, showing no signs of life. You looked upwards and began to examine the place to see if you could find anything in the clutter of objects John had been collecting in his few decades of hunting. There wasn’t much progress done besides the box of papers that tipped over, probably after the demons were caught off guard from another player. You searched to see if there was anything that might be a clue to what you were looking for, but you found yourself whipping to the back of the storage space at the sound of an unfamiliar voice that took you by surprise.

“I see you told the demons where the sword was.”

You knew it was a matter of time before you saw Zachariah and his goons. Suppressing an eye roll, you dropped the shotgun to your side and gave him a welcoming smile before settling your frustration with a sarcastic jab. “Oh, thank God. The angels are here.”

“Very nice to see you too again, Y/N. And to think, you could have let them grab it any time they wanted.” Zachariah stepped over the dead body, making sure not to get his oxfords dirty from the blood. You stared at him with confusion from what he said. But your neck found a different focus as it turned around when you heard the door slowly shut, imprisoning you with the angels. “It was right in front of them.”

"What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside’s Chuck’s skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn’t find it. Until now.” Zachariah explained, but you were only becoming more confused with each word that he spoke. “You’ve just hand-delivered it to us.”

Dean shifted his gaze around to stare at you and his brother for a second, wondering if you two were keeping something from him. You shook your head as Sam looked baffled from what was going on. “We don’t have anything.” Dean admitted, unsure of what the angel were talking about.

Zachariah stared at the oldest Winchester for a moment. If he thought humans were stupid, he couldn’t believe what he was about to say came from the man who held so much power. “It’s you, chucklehead. You’re the Michael sword.” Zachariah told the wonderful news to Dean. You could feel the quietest gasp of surprise come from you at the information, Dean suddenly looked like a deer in headlights from what he was hearing. The angel chuckled at the hunter’s reaction to the news. “What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You’re just a human, Dean. And not much of one.”

“What do you mean I’m the sword?” Dean questioned the angel.

"You’re Michael’s weapon.” Zahariah said. “Or, rather, his…receptacle.”

You furrowed your brow tightly together, “He’s a vessel?”

“Dean’s the vessel.” The angel admitted with a proud smile as he pointed directly at the hunter. Dean suddenly felt like he was thrown into the limelight when you stared at him with absolute confusion. He stumbled out the question of why, wanting to know what the hell Zachariah was talking about. “Because you’re chosen! It’s a great honor, Dean.”

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That’s real fun.” Dean replied to the position that was being offered to him. You glanced over at him, knowing his personal favorite way of handling a situation was with sarcasm. You gave him a warning look to watch himself, knowing his humor didn’t always go well with Zachariah. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Joking. Always joking. Well, no more jokes.” Zachariah shook his head in disappoint. He decided to prove your point as he lifted up his hand. Without an explanation, his fingers made a gun and pointed it at Dean for a moment. But he wasn’t the target, Sam was. “Bang.“

A painful cracking sound sent your head turning to look at Sam, worried for what Zachariah had done to him. You watched as the man tumbled to the ground when his leg broke clean in half. "Sam!” You called out his name in a panicked tone. Rushing forward to help, you stumbled to your knees and tried helping best as you could. The man hissed in pain when you tried to tenderly touch his wound, curious to see how bad it was. You pulled away when you felt a bone peaking through the fabric of his jeans. With a glaring expression, you looked up at Zachariah for what he’d done. “You stupid son of a bitch!”

“Keep mouthing off, you two, I’ll break more than his legs.” Zachariah warned. You pressed your lips together and sank your teeth into your tongue. Sam forced himself to work through the pain as you looked upwards at Dean, silently pleading for him to act civil. “I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don’t have our general. That’s bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?”

“How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?” Dean questioned the angel. “A million? Five, ten?”

“If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them.” Zachariah said, giving him the cold truth the man didn’t want to hear. “He’ll roast the planet alive.”

Dean wasn’t letting the little facts sway his decision. He’s always been the one to help for the greater good, it was how he was raised. But this wasn’t in his morals. The man wasn’t going to become spineless and do something that would only ruin things even more. “There’s a reason you’re telling me this instead of just nabbing me.” Dean said. He’d been suspicious of what was going on, until it finally clicked into his head. “You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Zachariah admitted in a quiet tone.

“Well, there’s got to be another way.” Dean said.

“There is no other way.” Zachariah explained for what felt to be the thousandth time. “There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written.”

"Yeah, maybe. But on the other hand, eat me.” Dean remarked to the angel. He gave no sense of remorse for the backlash he was giving, despite the verbal threat “The answer’s still no.”

“Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby—we know he’s gravely injured. Uh, say yes, and we’ll heal him. Say no, he’ll never walk again.” Zachariah gave an offer to someone you loved more than anything. You looked back up at Dean, wondering what his answer was going to be. In the back of your mind you knew it was the right thing to do, but you found yourself shaking your head no. It wasn’t worth giving up his free will to become a vessel. And Dean seemed to agree, saying yet again, the answer was no. “Then how about we heal you from…stage four stomach cancer?”

The torture was only beginning for the three of you. You furrowed your brow as a second passed with nothing happening. But you quickly looked to see that Dean started coughing violently as he slowly descended to his knees from the pain that was wracking through his system. You scrambled forward to wrap your hands around his shoulders before he could topple to the ground. Dean let out another cough directly into his palm, your eyes widened when you noticed blood came out. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” You hissed at Zachariah. “His answer is no!”

“Hmmm, wrong answer. Let’s get really creative. Uh, let’s see how Y/N does without her lungs.” Zachariah proposed to add more fuel to the fire. You felt a sudden sensation that couldn’t be described. Your eyes widened as you felt the urge to breathe creep into your mind, but as you opened up your mouth, nothing would work. It felt like someone was strangling you. The angel peered over the three of you with a comical smirk for what he’s done. “Are we having fun yet?” He was only answered with glares from the boys, you struggled to keep yourself persistent, but your fingernails dug into the concrete as the ache began to grow painfully worse. Zachariah took a few steps forward and bent down at Dean’s level, he snatched the man by his chin so he could stare dead straight in his eye. “You’re going to say yes, Dean.”

“Just kill us.” Dean managed to say as he choked on his blood.

“Kill you?” Zachariah chuckled at the man’s heroic behavior. He let go out Dean’s chin by pushing it away, letting the man falter as he began to grow weaker by the second. The angel took a few steps back, watching as the three of you continued to take the punishment. “Oh, no. I’m just getting started.”

But it seemed Zachariah wasn’t expecting a visitor. You found yourself shielding your eyes from the blinding light that came out of nowhere. When it faded, you slowly brought down your arm, wondering what happened. You looked up at the other side of the room to see the angel Zachariah had brought along had something stuck in his throat. Your face scrunched up when you noticed it was a blade. But your focus only lasted a few seconds until it drifted to the person holding the weapon. It was Cas, back from the dead. And he wasn’t here to mess around. When he took care of one angel, he moved on to the other. A small fight broke out between the both of them, but Cas remained victorious as he pinned the other man down by the back of his neck before shoving the blade in, killing him instantly. Cas ripped out his weapon you’ve never seen before and stepped back, allowing the body to fall at his feet.

Zachariah straightened out his shoulders when Cas settled his attention on the angel. It seemed nobody was expecting to see such a familiar face so soon. “How are you…”

“Alive? That’s a good question. How did these three end up on that airplane? Another good question.” Cas remarked. You wanted to roll your eyes in frustration. While you were happy to see that he was alive and well, the lack of progress of retrieving your lungs was starting to make your vision grow darker from the impending death you were crawling towards. “Cause the angels didn’t do it. I think we both know the answer, don’t we?”

“No.” Zachariah whispered, you could hear the fear in his voice. “That’s not possible.”

“It scares you. Well, it should. Now, put Y/N and the boys back together and go. I won’t ask twice.” Cas said, making sure there was a bit of a bite in his tone. Zachariah stared at the angel for a moment, contemplating if he should try anything, but from the events that recently unfolded, it was better to take his chances another time. In the blink of an eye, Zachariah was gone. You dropped yourself to your backside when you felt the sweet rush of air seep into your lungs. You inhaled deep breaths as you laid there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of breathing. A moment later, you grabbed a hold of Sam’s awaiting hand after he found his broken leg was healed once more. He pulled you up with ease, but before you could thank him, your attention was drawn to a face you thought you would never see again. “You three need to be more careful.”

“Hello to you, too.” You greeted him with a miserable tone. Cas didn’t seem amused as he stepped forward to the three of you. “Your brothers are bigger dicks than I thought.”

“I don’t mean angels, Y/N. Lucifer is circling his vessel.” Cas warned the three of you. “And once he takes it, those hex bags won’t be enough to protect you.”

Cas reached forward to the brothers and placed a hand on their chest. Without a warning, he sent the pain through them, you watched as they both leaned forward slightly and winced. You opened your mouth to ask him what he’d done, but it was cut off when he did the same to you. A sizzling pain, like you were on fire, suddenly erupted through your chest. You hissed in pain, “What the hell was that?”

“An enochian sigil. It’ll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer.” Cas explained. “I believe it should work well on you, too, Y/N.”

“What, you just brand us with it?” Dean asked.

“No.” Cas said. “I carved it into your ribs.”

You raised your brows from what you heard, all though it was mind boggling to think you were safe from at least one threat, you wondered what your bones looked like. Your mind focused on the thought for a moment or so, but your eyes lingered back over to the angel. “Hey Cas, were you really dead?” You asked him, wondering about the conversation he had previously with Zachariah. The angel looked up from the ground, his answer was yes. “Then how are you back?”

Before you could get a straight answer from what you were starting to suspect, you heard the familiar flutter of wings, and when you blinked, Cas disappeared from your sight. You let out a frustrated sigh and looked away to the more important mess you had to handle. Glancing down at the dead bodies, you and the boys were going to need to take care of this before leaving. If you managed to shove two bodies in the back and another two in the front, you could do this all in one trip and be back in Maryland before sunrise. Dean doesn’t give a second of hesitation when he hands you the keys to fetch the Impala. Giving him a small smile, you snatch them from his grip and head to the heavy door, swinging it open to see that nobody was still around, making what you were about to do a lot easier.

You stepped into the night air and looked both ways. As you began searching for the key off the ring, you found yourself letting them slip from your grip, the keys make a quiet thud to the pavement. Your hand quickly fumble to catch the door as your knees buckle from a sudden situation. It feels like someone had stopped your heart for just a split second before it kicked back up again with a thump so powerful, it knocked the air out of your lungs. You could feel your breathing turning into heavy pants as you tried to shake off this feeling. You furrowed your brow, wondering why it suddenly felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. It’d been years since you had been plagued by one. You would get them occasionally when your mother passed away. But it’d been a chunk of years since you felt this one so powerful. You wondered why you suddenly felt on edge, like something sparked a fear you had never dealt with before.

“Y/N?” Dean called out your name in a worried tone. You slowly looked over your shoulder to see that he was staring at you, Sam gave you a concerned look. “You feeling okay?”

“Uh,” You pushed yourself away from the door and snatched the keys from the ground. Somehow you managed to get yourself to act normal as you turned around to face them, you gave them a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I think it might have been one of the effects from what Cas did.”

The boys looked over at one another, as if they were silently contemplating if your excuse was a lie or not. But they fell into agreement as they began working on circling the bodies together. You let out a breath of relief as you finally began to head towards the Impala. You snatched the right key and kept your attention forward, pretending yourself that what you experienced just a mere moment ago never happened.

\+ + +

“‘Unlikely to walk again’?! Why you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait till I get out of this bed! I’ll use my game leg and kick your friggin’ ass! Yeah, you better run!”

Bobby was taking the news like you had expected. You sat in the hard plastic chair every hospital room was provided with for visitors as the brothers occupied themselves by sitting against the windowsill. The doctor arrived shortly after you to make his early morning rounds, Bobby was his first patient to discuss the conditions of his abandoned wounds, and how rather bizarre it was. Due to how the stab wound was penetrated and the length of the blade, it was long enough to penetrate through his spinal cord, damaging the nerves just enough to leave him paraplegic. The doctor didn’t understand how this happened, he was deeply empathetic, trying his hardest to give the older hunter the best neurologist in the state for another opinion to figure out what went wrong.

The hunter stopped listening when the doctor gave him the brutal news that he would never be able to get out of bed again, that’s when he started hollering on the top of his lungs. The doctor mumbled something about giving Bobby some time to absorb the news before he ran out the door fast as he could, Bobby scoffed as the heavy door slammed shut. All though you knew the truth of how his conditions came about, you remained calm as you watched the doctor scurry into the halls from the cracks in the blinds. Even paralyzed from the waist down, he could strike fear in just about anyone.

Bobby shook his head as he replayed the bogus excuses the doctor had given him. “You believe that yahoo?” He asked the three of you. When he looked in your direction, your lips stretch into a smile from everything that unfolded.

“Screw him.” Dean said, giving the older man a boost of comfort. “You’ll be fine.”

“So, let me ask the million-dollar question.” You slapped your palms against your thighs and let out a sigh from the dreaded topic you were about to approach. Though you dreaded to change the topic to the elephant in the room, you thought it’d be best for Bobby to have something else to think about other than his new challenges ahead in the next upcoming days before he‘d be discharged from the hospital. Which was another conversation you needed to have with his doctor, that was, if he wasn’t too frightened to be it the same room as his patient. You let out a quiet laugh from the position you were thrown into without much of a choice. “What do we do now?”

“Well, we save as many as we can for as long as we can, I guess.” Bobby answered you with the most realistic aseptic he could provide. You knew he couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel when your only weapon turned out to be something far different, and if used, the outcome wouldn’t be for your benefit. “It’s bad. Whoever wins, heaven or hell, we’re boned.”

“What if we win?” Dean asked. He proposed another idea that made all of you look at the man like he’d grown a second head. But the man wasn’t bluffing. Dean pushed himself away from the window and began wandering around the hospital room, you watched as he made the speech only he could deliver. “I’m serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap apocalypse. They want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one’s ours, and I say get the hell off it. We take 'em on. We kill the Devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to. But we do it our own damn selves.”

“While I love your upbeat attitude,” You said, “How are we supposed to do all of this, genius?”

“I got no idea.” Dean admitted, you raised your brows. “But what I do have is a G.E.D. and a 'Give 'em hell’ attitude, and I’ll figure it out.”

You could feel your lips stretching into a smile at his optimism about the situation ahead. Dean was the natural born leader, taking charge when the situation ahead became rougher, to the point where it seemed almost impossible to face. But no matter what, he would continue on, doing what was right. And that’s what you loved most about him.

Bobby shook his head, “You are nine kinds of crazy, boy.”

“It’s been said. But listen, you stay on the mend.” Dean took a giant step forward to the hospital bed and patted Bobby on the shoulder. “We’ll see you in a bit.”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you gave your final goodbyes to Bobby for the very early morning, suddenly you were hit with an exhaustion from running around trying to save the world over the past two very long days. You would be back here first thing this afternoon when everyone got a decent amount of sleep. Bobby still wouldn’t be cured, and the Devil would still be on the run. You followed behind Dean to the hallway as Sam quietly trailed behind. But before you could make your escape, you stopped in the doorway when Bobby called out for Sam. You backtracked a few steps as Dean found himself peeking inside the room, curious to see what this conversation was about, Sam hesitantly stood at the edge of the bed.

“I was awake. I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that was the demon talking.” Bobby said. You could feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders from the confession that helped clear things up. You took the smallest step to the side and nuzzled yourself closer to Dean, your fingers brush against each other, and like most times, he intertwined them together. When you look away for a moment to stare at him directly in the eye, he gives you a smile, but it seems different this time, like it’s forced. “I ain’t cutting you out, boy. Not ever.”

Sam was nothing more than relieved to hear this confession. Demons had a tendency of lying to try and trick people into going mad or hurting relationships past their mends. But what the younger Winchester did over the past several months went against everything the four of you stood for, he wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby nothing to do with, despite how painful it was. Sam let out a heavy sigh, happy to this problem resolved. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“You’re welcome. I deserve a damn medal for this, but, you’re welcome.” Bobby said, giving the younger man a warm smile, showing that despite the heavy burden he was about to carry on, he wouldn’t have it any other way. You were about to give Bobby another final goodbye, but before you could follow behind Dean as he tugged you along, your hand slipped from his grip when you heard Bobby call out your name. “Y/N, wait. Could I talk to you alone for a second?”

Nodding your head, you shift out of the doorway so the brothers can pass by and start heading down the hall in sync. You watch for a moment as they continue on until they turn the corner, disappearing from your sight. "So,” You look over at Bobby as you begin taking steps forward so you’re right next to his side. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

Bobby doesn’t speak right away, he seems hesitant to even bring this conversation up at all, but after a moment of silence, he turns his head in your direction. “I want you to do something for me. It’s a big favor, but I know out of anyone, you can handle it.” You look at him a bit funny, but you nod your head, wondering what he is about to throw your way. “You and I both know those boys have been nothing but thick as thieves. Sure they’ve had their up and downs over the years. But I’m worried this is gonna be too much for Dean to handle. Just…keep an eye out for them, will you? I need someone with a pair of working legs to kick their ass back in line while I’m down.”

You could feel the ends of your lips stretching into a smile from his joke to at least try and make light of the situation. “Hey, Bobby, before I go,” You lean yourself against the bed and look at him straight in the eye. “I just wanted to say thank you. I know we haven’t been the safest people to be around these past few years. It means a lot to me that you stuck around.”

“Well, it’s not like I can get up and walk away, now can I?” You bite your lip to keep yourself from letting a smile show. Bobby tries to make light of the situation, but you feel awkward laughing at his expense. Your eyes circle around the room to distract yourself before your gaze settled on him. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easy, Y/N. Those boys have been making a mess since they were kids. But they’re like my own.” You give him a smile from what he said, but you can feel it growing even more when he continued on. “All of you are. You’re part of this family, too. And if I have to be honest, I think you’re starting to be my favorite. There ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for you kids.”

It’s always been an unspoken thought of yours that Bobby was like a fatherly figure to you. He’s known you since you were still in your mother’s stomach before she vanished, abandoning her life as a hunter and everyone involved with it. The boys had known him since they were kids, spending days at his house when John was away on hunts. When you started hunting with the boys, Bobby was just another hunter you would call to help, but after everything you went through, you molded yourself into the small family. You loved your dysfunctional, messed up boys. Because like the old hunter had said once before, family doesn’t always end with blood.

You leaned forward to give Bobby a soft kiss on the forehead, wanting to show yourself for how much gratitude you have for him after everything he’s doe for you. You didn’t want this situation to end sour as it did, the thought of Bobby being bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his days made you feel guilty. But you couldn’t stomach the idea of Dean becoming a vessel for a fight that would be the end of the world. You take a step backwards and give him a warm smile. "Take it easy, Bobby.”

“Stay out of trouble, kid.” Bobby remarks back.

You nod your head for his request and mumble a final goodbye, setting your sights on the empty hospital hallway, you find your way through the place until you step through the exit. You see that it’s still dark outside but ambulances are rushing in patients as people pass you by. You let out a sigh as you step down from the sidewalk and begin heading forward to the Impala after you spotted the brothers, who are standing in the middle of the parking lot, having a conversation. You think for a moment that maybe this isn’t so bad. Dean is talking to his little brother in a civil manner, things might be all right. But when you get close enough to hear what they’re talking about, it’s nothing what you hoped it be.

“Dean,” You step behind Sam’s massive frame so you can somehow hide yourself to eavesdrop on this conversation, but you have a feeling Dean knows you’re there. You hear Sam let out a heavy sigh from their conversation that is going far from perfect before asking, “Is there something you want to say to me?”

“I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. But I can’t keep pretending that things are all right. Because it’s not. And it’s never going to be.” Dean couldn’t help himself anymore when the confessions of how he felt about this entire situation slip out. He wanted to pretend like everything was okay, but over the past several days, after seeing what his little brother had done, it was too much to hide anymore. “You chose a demon over your own brother, you pumped Y/N with demon blood and look at what happened.”

“I would give anything—anything—to take it all back.” Sam said, you could hear the guilt in his voice. But it wasn’t enough for Dean to change his mind. His little brother made a string of mistakes over the past year that might have been excusable after a few months of passive aggressive comments, maybe one or two heated arguments and within time, the pain might subside. Yet nothing could change what Sam did, freeing the Devil from Hell was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“I know you are. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But, man, you were the one that I depend on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can’t even…” Dean stopped himself, finding the words that he was speaking were painful, but if he kept going at this rate, he would destroy a family bond that was already fragile. “I’m just—I’m having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. You know?”

Sam fell into a moment of silence, finding there wasn’t much else he could say. The problem was already done, he couldn’t go back in time to change his mistakes he made, starting with not trusting Ruby. He was a stupid bastard who was desperate to believe in just about anything to save his big brother. But it always seemed that no matter what he thought was right, it turned out to be the wrong choice. “What can I do?” He couldn’t help himself ask.

Dean let out a quiet chuckle, “Honestly? Nothing. I just don’t…I don’t think that we can ever be what we were. You know?” The conversation up to now was just letting out confessions that had been harboring since this morning. But what he was about to say was the worst of all, but it was what he felt. And honesty was the best policy, even if the words felt like he was rubbing salt in a bleeding wound. “I just don’t think I can trust you.”

The words feel like a complete surprise for Sam, and even you, as you quietly listen to this conversation. Dean’s honestly makes you feel saddened to see that a family relationship that was once so strong, has dwindled into nothing. But it only takes a moment before you feel yourself only enraged with anger, knowing that it wasn’t that long when you were in the older Winchester’s shoes, distrusting of someone you love. Yet, who are you to say how the man is supposed to feel? Sam did something terrible. You should look at him the way that Dean was right now, but you can’t get yourself to do such a thing. Maybe because you feel responsible for this mess, too.

\+ + +

By the time you’re settled into another motel room, opting out of sharing one with Dean, you it’s the afternoon again. You shut the curtains to block out what sun might peek through on this cloudy day and walk back to your bed, where you’d been sitting for the past hour. Subconsciously, your fingers slip underneath the shirt you’d stolen from Dean what felt like a million years ago. It was some old flannel button down that he’d let you borrow when you were forced to share a bed, after the fact he’d accidentally dirtied all your clothes by dropping a cup of coffee into your bag. Back when you were mere weeks into the wild goosechase for John, back when things were so much simpler. You let out a sigh as you remind yourself that this might not work. It was like shouting on the top of your lungs in an empty room. But you were fresh out of options, and you didn’t think he might have thought of this one through after he ditched you.

It’d been at least two hours since you tried praying to Cas, hopeful that he could somehow hear you, despite the engraving inside your ribs that were supposed to make you hidden. You let out a sigh as you tossed the burner phone to the bed and push yourself to your feet, deciding it was time you got some sleep. As you turn around to head for the dresser to pull up your hair, you nearly jump out of your skin from the gravely voice that you were expecting.

“You shouldn’t have prayed to me, Y/N. It might give other angels your whereabouts.” You look over your shoulder to see that it’s Cas, and from the disapproving look on his face, you know he isn’t happy being called back once more. You don’t make a remark, instead, you walk over to the bed and pick up the phone you haven’t used in months. Reaching out an arm, you gesture for Cas to take it. He furrows his brow and glances down at the phone. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Take it. Since the boys and I are under the angel radar, you might need something to contact us. I already put mine, the boys and Bobby’s number in there. So you should be all set.” You explain to the angel, you put your arm further out in front of you so he could take the phone. Cas nods his head and grabs it. He examines the phone for a moment or so, letting the room fall into a silence. You look away for a moment to inspect something, and when you turn your head back to in front of you, it’s almost expected that Cas would be gone. Instead you see that he’s staring at you, with the same puzzled look on his face. “What?”

“You’re afraid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your heartbeat sounds different from the last time I saw you. It’s more frantic, like you’re scared.” He makes an assumption, you don’t fight him on this assumption as you look away from him. You cross your arms over your chest, showing a human sign that you were trying to block him out. When you take a second to look at him from the corner of your eye, you notice that he’s staring at you with concern. “Something’s bothering you.”

"Thank you for the lovely deduction, Sherlock.” You said with a bit of sarcasm in your voice. In the year that you’ve known Cas, he hasn’t shown much as an ounce of emotion to you, at least, both of you hadn’t been in the same room alone without some dispute. You expect him to disappear every time you close your eyes, but instead he stands there, just staring at you. “It’s the end of the world, Cas. Of course I’m scared.”

“That’s not it. You’ve faced an enormous amount of obstacles over the past year and not once have you shown a sign of weakness.” Cas said. You look at him with a funny expression from what you hear him say next. “Your worries aren’t about the apocalypse. There is something else, isn’t it?”

“Why do you care?” You ask him.

“Because I know what it’s like to rebel against what you’re supposed to believe in. But it’s more than just that for you, isn’t it? You’re worried about the Winchesters, the fate of Bobby’s health, and what is going to happen to you since Lucifer is free from the cage.” Cas doesn’t miss a beat, you give him a surprised expression as you nod your head. “You are much stronger than you think, Y/N. I believe you have a talent for defying people’s expectations of what they want from you.”

“Thank you, I think.” You aren’t sure if what he says is a compliment, but you don’t linger on the subject much longer, curious of to see if what you suspected was true. “So, you finally grew a pair?”

“If you mean by ‘growing a pair’ that I’m rebelling against Heaven? Then yes, I did.” Cas answer you with a serious face, but you can feel yourself smile from his terminology. The angel doesn’t understand what is so funny about what he said, but he finds that you must be feeling better from your reaction. “I wish I could say it’ll get easier. I believe most humans say that during times of distress. But the fight is just beginning. It’s only going to get worse.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You whispered with a sigh of annoyance from what the angel was hinting around. The distrust between brothers and Lucifer being on the run, you understood all of you were facing a fight that wasn’t going to be easy. “If today was any indication of what we’ve got to deal with, it’s not going to be easy.”

“For the brothers it will be. You have promise, Y/N.” Cas said, giving you a bit of hope. “Females have a tendency to be more emotionally stable during distressing times than men.”

You cracked the slightest smile from what you had presumed was a compliment from the angel, but before you could ask what be meant by that, he was gone. You rolled your eyes and let out a quiet laugh from his unexpecting timing. Knowing that you and Cas had a decent conversation makes you feel just a tad better. You head over to the bed that has been calling your name and curl up into the sheets, when you close your eyes, it takes just a few minutes before you finally pass out into a deep slumber.

\+ + +

Your dreams are the most pleasant they’ve ever been in months. Instead of dreaming about monsters that want to kill you, the people you see are faces that you haven’t seen in years. Your parents are there, along with Mary and John, all of them are smiling and laughing. You dream about having a family dinner, surrounded by the people that you love. Dean is by your side, looking happies that he’s ever been, along with Sam, who’s holding the love of his life, Jess, close to his side. The atmosphere in the room makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine, you never want this day to end. Everyone is gathered around like one big happy family, talking and laughing, like how it should have been from the beginning. You roll around in bed as you position yourself to your side when you feel yourself starting to wake up. But you aren’t hit with reality just yet. You still carry on the lighthearted, warm nuzzle in your chest as you reach out a hand, your lips stretching into a faint smile when your fingers brush against something that feels like skin.

For a moment you think that Dean is sleeping beside you, and when you open your eyes, you’re going to see the man you love. You slowly part your eyelids open to see that it’s darkness out, the room is cast in a shadow, making it hard to see who’s sitting on the bed. Your vision is a bit blurry, but from the figure that you see, it appears to be Dean. You give him a smile as you sink deeper into the pillow for a moment as you shut your eyes again, enjoying the moment you don’t ever want to end. “Did you have any good dreams, sweetheart?” You hear his voice, it sounds like him in the beginning, but as he continues on, you hear his voice shift to another one you’ve never heard before.

You opened your eyes all the way when you realize the person sitting at the edge of your bed isn’t Dean. The feeling is gone and you’re thrown back into the reality you were avoiding. You shot up in bed when you see a man staring at you, someone you’ve never seen is in your motel room.

You quickly push your knees to your chest and try to fumble for the weapon you normally kept under your pillow for safety, but there’s nothing there. Out of all the times you forget. The man staring at you made it past the salt lines and dead bolt. You weigh your options. You could try screaming on the top of your lungs to alert the boys since their room was right next to yours. But you find yourself becoming mute, confused by how the stranger has not made a move to hurt you. He’s just staring at you, like he knows you. As seconds pass, you grow uncomfortable with the way he’s observing. The question of asking the stranger who he is sits at the tip of your tongue, but you find yourself unable to speak.

“My, my, you are a hard one to find. But I have to say, the hunt was worth the wait.” The stranger breaks the silence, but he never looks away from your face. You push the sheets closer to your body when you see that he’s starting to drag his attention is becoming greedier. He inspects whatever he can of your body, as if he’s worshiping every little misplaced piece of hair from your slumber and observing how the shirt you’d worn to bed slouches slightly off the shoulder. “You’re a piece of art, Y/N. A beauty.”

“Who the hell are you?” You finally get yourself to ask the question. But your voice doesn’t come off strong and threatening like you planned out in your head. Instead it comes out timid and fearful, like it wasn’t hard to see in your expression as your hand holding the knife is beginning to shake, wondering what he’s going to do. “How did you get in here?”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.” The strangers seems to know what you’re thinking, you furrowed your brow as you watch him lift up his hands up in a defeated position. Your eyes wander over to his left hand, noticing there’s a gold band on his ring finger. You quickly look back over at him from what you hear him say next. You watch as his lips stretch into a smile, the lines around his mouth become prominent. “On the contrary, Y/N, I’m here to thank you.”

You tightly furrowed your brow, wondering for a split second of what he meant by that, but then it hits you like a ton of bricks. Your breathing hitches in your throat as your body freezes when you realize who is sitting at the foot of your bed. Before you stop yourself, a mindless saying you’ve grown used to mumbling comes rolling out. “Oh, my God.” The reaction you get from him is a very quiet chuckle, it seems he finds the misconception of who he is a bit amusing. You nervously swallow as you stare at the man who looks to be in his mid thirties from the wrinkles that have started to seep into his skin and the dark circles that settle underneath his eyes. He looks like someone who had been to Hell and back from an emotional turmoil. It seems only fitting for the Devil to choose him as a vessel. But the man’s sorrow doesn’t match the fire gleaming in his eyes. You push yourself closer to the headboard.

“You’re…” You find yourself wanting to say his name, but if you did, this would make it real. But he couldn’t have found you so easily. The engraving on your ribs was supposed to keep you hidden from every angel, including him. But he stares at you, and even the darkness, you see his lips stretch into a devilish smirk. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Well, I’m not physically here. I’m in here.” He taps a finger against his skull, making a heavy thud echo through the thick silence. “We’ve got a special connection, Y/N. I needed to see you. Even if it meant popping myself into your head. And my, you are quite the thinker. You’re so sad, so guilty. You deserve so much more, Y/N.”

“Stop saying my name.” You whispered to him with a harsh tone. You stare at the person sitting on the bed for a long moment after you come to the conclusion that he’s taking control of someone that had been a human being with a life. “So, Lucifer himself possesses some bastard just to say hello? How thought of you.”

“I didn’t trick Nick into becoming my vessel, he wanted this, and for the first time in months he’s at peace. I’ve done more for him than God has, or for humanity, in my time of coming back.” The Devil himself acts as if what you were to expect, an angel who has done nothing wrong. You stare at him with a darkening expression, he takes notice right away. “You people misunderstand me. You call me 'Satan’ and 'Devil,’ but do you know my crime? I loved God too much. And for that, He betrayed me—punished me. Just as he’s punished Nick, and for your dear mother. God might have ignored her prayers, but I gave her exactly what she desired.”

Everything that Lucifer has done was for his own personal gain to get himself farther to the bigger goal he had. You knew the reason why he fell, it wasn’t because he loved his father so much, it was because he wouldn’t bow down to humanity. He wanted to bring the end of the world because God didn’t pay much attention to him like he wanted. "I never understood why God created those vile things called humans. All they’ve done in the past several thousand years was to be born, live a life of misery, before dying. That’s all they have. God hasn’t helped them since they were created. Why should I bow down to such an inferior creature? They’re nothing. I just want to…bring back things to the way things were. That’s why I need your help, Y/N. I could offer you so many things you desire.”

You open your mouth to say no, but he stops you, as if he is trying to persuade you even more. “I could give you power and strength someone like you deserves. You have potential to be something great. Give me a chance to show you why I wanted you created in the first place. You deserve to be worshipped like a queen.”

“Tempting. But I like my life.” You said with a sharp tone. You don’t trust a word he says, because unlike most who would be tempted to saying yes for this offer, you know better than to make a deal. The Devil doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you’ve ever wanted. “Why should I trust something like you?”

“Because unlike humans, I have no reason to lie. I will never take advantage of you, Y/N, and unlike God, I will never abandon you. Most of all, I can give you happiness that you deserve. After all, isn’t that what humans desire?” Lucifer asks you. You fall silent as you bite the inside of your cheek, refraining yourself from participating anymore into this conversation. You want to wake up, you want him away from you far as possible. He’s the Devil, he wants to end humanity. What he says is just sweet nothing to get what he wants. You realize that’s you. The Devil seems to know what you’re thinking, he gives you a smirk. “I’ll be back for you, Y/N.”

\+ + +

Like you requested, you wake up after you see the Devil himself leave your motel room, plunging you back into the real world. Your eyelids slowly flutter open to see you have slept most of the day away, as it’s going on nighttime when you look over at the time from the lock that’s displayed on the nightstand. You slowly look away and draw your attention to the edge of the bed, where not too long ago you had met the monster that wanted to end the world. You push the sheets closer to your body when you begin to remember the conversation you had from him. There was a fraction, the tiniest sliver of your conscious that was tainted cynical from years of hunting, that wondered what kind of power he was offering. Making a deal with the Devil, now that’s something you haven’t tried yet. But you wouldn’t. You were far more interested in learning of how to kill him before he could get what he wanted.


	2. Good God, Y'all!

You let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against the wooden frame of the doorway leading into the hospital room. Today marked the third visit with no sign of improvement, physical or mental. Bobby sat in the wheelchair with his back turned to the door, ignoring nurses that checked on his vitals every few hours or guests which have requested for another formal visit. For the past three days Bobby has done nothing but sit and stare out the window, watching as people do activities he’ll never be able to do again. Sam hovered over you like a shadow, you heard him exhale a deep breath from the lack of change. You would do just about anything to get Bobby walking again, but your mind was coming up blank for a possible solution. The doctors couldn’t explain what happened, the damage was far too worse to even them attempt at reversing this problem at this early point of the diagnosis. And you doubt Zachariah was going to have a change of heart to reverse what he’d done, unless, of course, if Dean just said one little word. Your lips stretched into a tight from from the few problems that have been crossing your mind over the past several days.

“What, it’s been—like three days?” Dean’s voice brought you right out of your personal thoughts. You turned your gaze away to see the man approaching from the corner of your eye, until he settled himself right in front of you. He acknowledged his little brother with a simple look over before letting his eyes drop to you, knowing the sight inside the hospital room hadn’t changed since he left twenty minutes to attend other business. “We got to cheer him up. Maybe I’ll give him a backrub.”

“Dean,” You mumbled the man’s name in a tired tone as you looked up at him. You broke your concentration away from Bobby for the first time, knowing he wasn’t going to produce any sort of miracles while you diverted your attention away for just a split moment. Dean gave you a look, as if you had any special to say that might help the grim situation all three of you had right in front of you. You let out another sigh as you diverted your gaze away and back to him. “Look, we might have to wrap our heads around the idea that Bobby might not bounce back this time.” It was a hard thing to say, admitting the truth nobody really wanted to hear, you let out a quiet sigh when you could see the guilt creeping into the Winchester’s expression from the reality he had been trying to avoid. You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced down to the floor, you noticed a large manilla envelope in his left hand. “What’s in the envelope?”

“Went to radiology. Got some glamour shots. Let’s just say the doctors are baffled.” Dean said. He opened up the envelope to pull out the x-ray shots of what appeared to be his ribcage. Sam grabbed ahold of them to lift them up at an angle where you and him could examine the details. You furrowed your brow from all the strange markings you’d never quite seen before, all sketched into bone. Sam seemed rather surprised at what he was seeing. “Yeah, well, Cas carved you two some, also.”

Your attention was drawn away from the x-ray pictures of Dean’s ribcage when you heard the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing. You fumbled a hand into your pockets when you realized it was coming from you. Shoving it out, you didn’t read the name on the screen, you answered the call quick as you could, knowing it was against hospital policy to have a phone on. “Hello?” You answered, curious to see who would be calling you. You were surprised to hear a familiar tone after three days gone without contact on the other side. “Cas?”

“Speak of the Devil.” Dean quietly whispered, you ignored his comment.

“Where am I? Uh, St. Martin’s hospital. Why? Where are—Cas?” You answered the angel after faintly hearing the question he asked you. You furrowed your brow when you heard the line go dead silent, all before the familiar dial tone when he hung up on you. Scoffing, you ended the call yourself before shoving the phone back into your pocket for safekeeping. “I should have taught him how to properly end a phone call.”

You wondered why Cas would be calling out of the blue, wondering where you were, and how long it would take until you would spot him. You waited only a few seconds before you noticed the familiar messy undone blue tie and trench coat, popping out from the sea of nurses as they rushed to help tend to a patient just down the hall. "Cell phone, Cas? Really?” Dean asked. “Since when do angels need to reach out and touch someone?”

“You’re hidden from angels—all angels. I won’t simply be able to locate you like I used to. It was Y/N’s idea I use a phone to contact all of you.“ Cas explained the circumstances to the brothers. As if eyes were drawn to you before about what you did for the angel, you felt a heat coming to your cheek in embarrassment when Cas brought up a situation that was supposed to have been a private conversation amongst the two of you. But you had a feeling he needed to be taught about keeping a secret or two. "Are you feeling better from the last time we talked, Y/N?”

“Wait,” Dean furrowed his brow from what he heard, seeming to be throw through a loop from what he was hearing. You shrugged your shoulders, silently admitting to sharing a conversation with the angel, thinking not much of it. “You two couldn’t even spend five minutes together in a room without an argument breaking out. Now you’re suddenly best friends sharing secrets and having late phone night conversations?”

“Enough foreplay.” Bobby cut you off, managing to give you a chance to roll your eyes in annoyance from Dean’s remark before your head to the doorway. For the first time in three days you heard him speak, you inhaled a deep breath, somehow thinking this was progress. You realized this was the first time Bobby was meeting Cas, the infamous angel that had come up in many different conversations, and he wanted to see what all the hype was about himself. “Get over here and lay your damn hands on me.” You slowly looked over at Cas when he continued to stand where he was, prompting the older hunter to become even more irritated from waiting. “Get healing—now.”

“I can’t.” Cas admitted with a somber tone. Bobby moved his hands to the wheels of his chair and turned around, wanting to face the angel so he could see the pissed off expression that was starting to settle in his face. Cas stepped inside the room, knowing there was too much of a crowd outside for this conversation to keep going without a bit of privacy. “I’m cut off from Heaven and much of Heaven’s power. Certain things, I can do. Certain things, I can’t.”

“You’re telling me you lost your mojo just in time to get me stuck in this trap the rest of my life?!” Bobby yelled at the angel, Cas could only offer an apology for the lack of help he could provide. The hunter scoffed as he turned around to face the window again, turning his back on the four of you. “Shove it up your ass.”

You let out a sigh from seeing the man turn back into his depressive self once more. You looked upwards when you heard Dean speak to you and his brother in a whispered voice. “Well, at least he’s talking now.”

“I heard that.” Bobby said.

“I don’t have much time. We need to talk.” Cas said. The angel knew there was far more daunting tasks that needed to be discussed, starting with the infamous idea brewing between you and the brothers over the past several days. “Your plan to kill Lucifer.”

Dean nodded his head, "Yeah. You wanna help?”

“No. It’s foolish. It can’t be done.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for the support.”

“But I believe I have the solution. There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer—strong enough to stop the apocalypse. The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane. The one who started everything.” Cas said. You raised your eyebrows in curiosity, wondering who this person could be from the opening he was leading with. But the answer wasn’t what you were expecting after you asked him. “God. I’m gonna find God.”

Everyone had their personal beliefs of a higher power out there. Some liked to think science could help explain how the earth was created and why people were more evolved from apes. You chose to keep your own thoughts to yourself. But you couldn’t help question the theory someone else just might be out there. Meeting demons and angels made your curiosity of the unknown supernatural elements you had yet to discover. You had met Lucifer, you wondered if God was out there, hiding in the darkness himself. But you couldn’t have this religious debate out in the open like this. You ushered the men inside as you quietly closed the door behind you.

“God?”

“Yes.”

“God?”

“Yes.” Cas answered for the second time for Dean. You leaned yourself against the door as Sam headed over to Bobby, you crossed your arms over your chest and listened to what else had to say. “He isn’t in Heaven. He has to be somewhere.”

“Try New Mexico.” Dean offered a suggestion, thinking he was being cheeky with the angel. “I hear he’s on a tortilla.”

Cas furrowed his brow in confusion, “No, he’s not on any flatbread.”

“Listen, Chuckles,” Dean rolled his eyes from the naive reaction he should have seen coming from the angel. He decided that it was time to put his opinion into this conversation, knowing himself there wasn’t a higher power that was going to come and save the day. “Even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that’s the generous theory—”

“He is out there, Dean.” Cas cut him off.

“Or he’s up and kicking and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any of us.” Dean continued on, sharing more of his pessimist outlook of the situation. You looked over at Cas, seeing just from the expression that was settling across his face, the angel wasn’t exactly happy from what he was hearing. “I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he’s off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut.”

“Enough. This is not a theological issue. It’s strategic. With God’s help, we can win.” Cas said. He gave the three of you little room to input yet another measure of doubt, but Dean managed to squeeze one more in, sending the angel to his breaking point. He wasn’t going to stand here anymore and listen to the hunter’s pessimistic attitude. You watched as Cas approached Dean, with the least bit amused expression on his face. “I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I’m hunted. I rebelled. And I did it—all of it—for you. And you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world. And I lost everything—for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself.”

You found yourself letting out a cough, trying your hardest to cover up the chuckle that threatened to escape you from the way Cas handled himself. You knew well enough he was risking his life by rebelling against his own kind by choosing to have a belief in a different path, the feeling was all too familiar for you. Sam was thrown into another wave of guilt from the point Cas made, Dean wasn’t the least bit amused like you had been from the glare he gave you. “You didn’t drop in just to tear the boys a new hole.” You said with a serious tone, managing to get yourself concentrating again. “What are you here for?”

“I did come for something.” Cas answered you. “An amulet.”

“An amulet?” Bobby asked. You looked over at the man to see that he turned himself around in his wheelchair, obviously intrigued by how this conversation was going. You knew the man collected strange things over the years like John, he wondered if the possession Cas was searching for might be close around. “What kind?”

“Very rare, very powerful.” Cas explained. “It burns hot in God’s presence. It’ll help me find Him.”

Sam found himself curious, “A God EMF?”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bobby said. “I got nothing like that.”

“I know. You don’t.” Cas said. You watched as the angel took his gaze away from the hunter, and to a person you were least expecting. He stared at the oldest Winchester for a second, before his gaze fell down to the necklace Dean had been wearing since he was twelve. In all of your years knowing Dean, he had never taken it off, not once. “May I borrow it?”

The favor Cas was asking would be like pulling teeth for the oldest Winchester. Sam had given it to him as a Christmas present one year when they were both kids. You heard the more intimate story of why Dean cherished the amulet so much after you asked him why he wore it every single day. You knew it was his most prized possession he would never let go, a small token of his childhood that didn’t seem so bleak while on the road. The answer Dean gave to the angel came as no surprise. “No.”

“Dean. Give it to me.” Cas ordered.

The Oldest Winchester stared at the angel with a complicated expression. He was acting like he was being asked to chop off his right arm for the sake of humanity. You knew he might pick that option if it meant he could keep the necklace close to him. But no amount of staring at Cas would make him change the situation. He had something that might help save the day. It wasn’t that long ago Dean realized he was holding onto something else for the greater good. But this time, Dean didn’t have the choice of refusing. He did what he was told, taking off the necklace, he began to slowly hand it over to Cas, all before yanking it away, needing to give a fair warning.

“Don’t lose it.” Dean said with a serious tone. Cas nodded his head in agreement as he snatched it away, knowing the amulet was far more important than the personal connection Dean had for the object. The man looked away, feeling out of sorts without his usual gear, it was like something was missing inside of him. “Oh, great. Now I feel naked.”

Cas held the pendent tightly by the leather strap, “I’ll be in contact.”

“When you find God, tell him to send legs!” Bobby threw out a command, thinking it might be worth a shot if the big man upstairs could be found before the worse could come undone. But the angel vanished before he could listen, embarking on his quest to find God.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you didn’t think this resolution was going to be an easy one, because unlike most people. you had a feeling Cas finding his father was going to be more challenging than when John disappeared. You had fifty endless states to choose from, who knew where He could be hiding. The sound of a cell phone going off broke you away from the personal thoughts that were starting to cloud your judgement. You looked over to see that it was Bobby’s phone going off. He reached out a hand and grabbed it from the mobile tray nurses used frequently for patients. Stepping a few steps forward, you were curious to see who could be calling Bobby.

“Hello?” The hunter greeted whoever was on the other line, but it seemed the connection on the other line was fuzzy, he barely could make out what the person was saying. Yet he recognized the person’s voice from the million other conversations he had from his old hunting partner. You furrowed your brow in concern when you heard the man’s name. “Ruf—I can’t hear you. Where are you?” The conversation with Rufus came out between bits and pieces from the static, you made out a few words, something about demons and needing help. “Coloro—Colorado? River Pass, Colorado? Rufus? You there?”

The connection remade for a few moments longer, Rufus dropped out of earshot, leaving the line to grow dead silent for just a moment, until he hear the sound of distant gunfire. Bobby may had treated his old hunting partner Rufus without much of a care when he tried to get into contact with him from time to time, but you could see from the panicked expression that was starting to settle in his face, something bad was going on. And Rufus was very well in danger.

\+ + +

River Pass, Colorado was a quiet little town not too far from the snowy capped mountains and a population of less than twelve thousand, it seemed like almost no harm could come to a place nestled in the wooded area. But you always tended to find danger lurking where people thought they were most safe. It took a little over a day’s drive to arrive into the new state with the same feeling of uneasiness, you still weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. Bobby could understand only a fraction of the conversation, something about a swarm of demons, maybe even a possessed town full of them. It would be just your luck, who knew how the hell you were going to take care of this it ended up being the problem. You had at least another twenty minutes of your drive into town from the directions you had mapped out before leaving.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, the Impala continued its path through the woods, you sat in the backseat as per usual, watching as the sight passed you by. You looked upwards at the sky, seeing through the cracks in the branches, seeing the morning sun peeking through on this late Spring day. While it seemed peaceful, the sight that laid ahead for you was nothing but. You found yourself looking straight ahead, wondering why Dean was slowly easing up on the breaks. It seemed from the looks of it, someone didn’t want any visitors in River Peak, coming or leaving.

The bridge into town was wrecked, the middle of the platform laid in the river, with its concrete road barely being connected together by the steel bars of the reinforcements underneath. You got out of the Impala to inspect the damage yourself, the brothers followed behind, obviously knowing there was something very wrong going on here. You walked to the edge and peered down to inspect the drop that was at least fifty feet down. Dean kicked out his foot, hitting a piece of the gravel, you watched as it rolled off to the edge, making a faint splashing sound when you heard it land into the shallow and rocky river below.

“This is the only road in or out.” Dean said. You placed your hands on your hips as you examined the scenery, wondering if there was a chance you could find a way into town without breaking your leg from the drop down. Sam took out his phone, hoping for a way to call someone, but he gave you more bad news, there was no signal. “Rufus was right. Demons got this place locked down.”

“Looks like we’re hiking into town.” Sam said.

“And the hits keep on coming.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

The boys headed for the trunk to gather all the supplies you needed before starting this adventure nobody wanted to start. You placed your hands on your hips and thought to yourself for a moment, suddenly wondering why you were having a sense of deja vu. “Doesn’t this feel…familiar to you?” You found yourself asking in a whispered tone. The brothers stopped in their tracks and turned around in their spot, wondering what you meant by that. “No service to call for help or a way out of town? Switch the possessed townspeople with a demonic virus. It’s like we’re dealing with this croatan epidemic. All over again.”

\+ + +

You arrived into town after struggling to win a fight with getting over the bridge, which wasn’t an easy task as the boys made it out to be. You accidentally caught your footing on one of the rocks, and like a complete idiot, you managed to scrape the palm of your hands and knees. The minor wounds made it a bit of a struggle to hold the loaded shotgun, and walking was a bit of a bitch, but you would live to fight another day. When you arrived into town, it wasn’t like you had much to fight off from the looks of it.

For the first few miles you walked it seemed like you had stepped into a ghost town, it was all too quiet on the home front for your personal liking from the lack of a soul around. But the innocent scenery only lasted for another mile until you hit the farther end of River Falls, that’s when things were beginning to show the disaster Rufus must have witnessed when he arrived. Every single car in the street was abandoned, one of them was flipped over, making it seem there was an accident, but when you looked to see if the driver was wounded, there was nobody there.

You continued on your way through the empty streets and shops that seemed to show no sign of human life. But you found yourself paying close attention to a mint condition cherry red mustang, you whistled in appreciation at the model which seemed to stand out from the old pickup trucks and buicks that must have come out from the year you were born. You examined the model for a few seconds longer before you realized the boys were getting a head start, finding the sight ahead of you much more interesting. You took one final look at the mustang before you were following behind, wondering what they had discovered, only when you spotted it, you stopped dead in your tracks. The pavement was covered with a pool of blood, but it was the baby carriage stuck underneath the car’s tire that made your stomach violently turn in nervousness.

You cautiously took a step foward to examine further, you made sure not to come into contact with the blood, wanting to know for sure your growing fears weren’t true. It took a strange position as you lean yourself against the car to somehow take a peek inside the stroller, wanting to know for sure there was no little baby harmed. When you saw the stroller was empty, you let out a sigh of relief, taking a step backwards so you were a foot away from the car. But the feeling only lasted so long, the sound of a gun cocking from behind you made your senses jump on edge from the unexpected threat. You presented yourself ready when you spun around in your spot, quickly drawing up your shotgun, pointing it directly at the stranger, who was pointing the barrel of their own gun directly at Dean, his brother cautiously looming behind the man. But the stranger seemed too familiar. It took you a second before you realized who it was, someone you haven’t seen in well over two years.

“Oh, my God.” You whispered with absolute surprise. “Ellen?”

“Hello, kids.” She greeted the three of you with a calm tone.

Ellen took the information with absolute silence as her response. You shrugged your shoulders when she took off walking in the direction of a church right across the street, all of you followed behind, sharing no words. She opened up the door as you glanced down on the ground, noticing right away of the salt line and devil’s trap, it was a smart move to keep out the demons this way. But you had a feeling there were more levels of entry, Ellen was smart, she probably took care of that. You stepped inside with the brothers following behind. As the door slammed shut behind Sam, you slowly looked over at Ellen, unsure of what she was going to say next. But it took you by complete surprise when she changed her attitude, you felt yourself being embraced into a tight hug by her, you followed suit, happy to see her again after all this time.

“Real good to see you kids.” She whispered with a shaky tone. You pulled away after a moment to give her a smile. But the warm greeting only went one way, Ellen gave no warning when she hauled up a hand and smack Dean right across the cheek, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to let out a nervous laugh. All though it quickly dyed when Ellen gave you a look any child would know to keep quiet. “The can of whup ass I ought to open on you. You can’t pick up a phone? What are you–allergic to giving me a peace of mind? I got to find out that you’re like from Rufus?!”

“Sorry, Ellen.” You mumbled with sincerity.

“Yeah, you kids better be. You better put me on speed dial.” Ellen ordered. “Understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You mumbled to the woman, knowing she was nothing short of serious of her command. She’s known the lifestyle all too well herself, from having a husband and knowing your parents, it was all too dangerous of a world out there for hunters, and it was better to stay close.You followed behind the woman as she began heading down the staircase, leading to the bottom of the basement level, perfect for hideout. “What’s going on, Ellen?”

“More than I can handle alone.” She admitted.

“How many demons are out there?” Sam asked from the back of the line.

"Pretty much–whole town, minus the dead people and these guys.” Ellen said, heading down to the last step before landing at the basement level. You looked forward to see there were a pair of double wooden doors that laid head, you glanced back at the woman when she spoke up again. “So…this is it, right? End of times? It’s got to be.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, timidly addressing the sour subject. “Seems like it.”

Ellen took the information as what it was, allowing it to process in her mind for just a moment, all before she turned to the door, knowing there were civilians inside that needed your help. You watched as she stepped forward to the door and knocked twice. A second passed before you noticed there was a small peephole in the door, along with an eye creeping out, wondering who it was. When the person recognized the stranger as Ellen, the door swung open, showing a room full of survivors, all scared out of their minds. You didn’t know what was worse, a town full of possessed people, or the poor pregnant woman sitting right across from the doorway.

\+ + +

Lowering the shotgun to your side for safekeeping, you stepped into the room after Ellen, carefully observing the crowd of people that were all huddled together. The room seemed like any other you would find in a church basement, it was furnished with a long wooden table and at least a half dozen chairs occupied by an array of people, all sharing the same petrified expression that probably hadn’t left their faces since this trouble began. You noticed a priest, a man who looked to be at least in his thirties, huddled in the back of the room with a few blankets cradled close to his chest. You gave him a weak smile when you accidentally made eye contact with him, but yet again, your attention drifted to the woman sitting at the table closest to you.

She kept her gaze on the floor as her husband comforted her by rubbing her shoulders, you presumed they were married from the gold wedding rings on their finger. You noticed she kept running her palms over her swollen stomach as she almost mumbled something, not directly at herself, but the tiny fetus growing inside her body. Reading her lips, you made out the keywords of “It’s okay” and “Everything’s gonna be fine, sweetie.” You wondered if this was her first child.

“This is Y/N, Sam and Dean.” Ellen’s introduction brought you out of your thoughts and your gaze over to her. “They’re hunters. They’re here to help.”

“You guys hip to this whole demon thing?” A male voice made you look over your shoulder to see who spoke up. The man guarding the door stood just a little bit shorter than Sam, but from heavy arsenal he was holding, there wasn’t a lack of threat he could strike in someone. You presumed he was a hunter himself, the woodsy kind, at least.

“Yeah.” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“My wife’s eyes turned black. She came after me with a brick.” One of the men sitting at the table confessed to what he had witnessed first hand right when this entire mess started. He leaned his right elbow on the table and nervously chewed on the nail bed of his thumb, you noticed a gold band was on his index finger. You presumed he moved it after ending his unfortunate marriage to his wife from guilt after what he was forced to do in order to protect himself. “Kind of makes you embrace the paranormal.”

You inhaled a deep breath from the sticky situation that had unfolded. The demons possessing the poor townsfolk weren’t here for some big agenda, it was probably for the hell of it, see how much of a body count they could rack up before being run out of town by hunters. “All right,” You glanced over at Ellen and dropped your voice to a whisper, making sure nobody could hear this conversation besides you or the boys, knowing even more panic was what you were trying to avoid. “Catch us up.”

“I doubt I know more than you do. Rufus called—said he was in town checking out some omens. All of a sudden the whole town was possessed.” Ellen explained. You furrowed your brow in confusion at how quickly the situation escalated. “Me and Jo were nearby—”

“You’re hunting with Jo?” You cut her off, surprised to hear the information come out of her mouth. The last time you had seen the young Harvelle she was working in some little bar, far away from the once standing Roadhouse after her mother refused to even think about letting Jo out of her sight to go hunting. You presumed she had been out on her own, taking cases where they popped up. Never could you think Ellen would join her daughter in the lifestyle that killed her husband many years ago.

“Yeah, for a while now.” Ellen said. You looked away for a moment to see if you could spot Jo anywhere, but she was nowhere to be seen in this small crowd of at least a dozen people. “We got here, and the place—well, the place was exactly like how you’ve seen it. Couldn’t find Rufus. Then me and Jo got separated. I was out looking when I found you three.”

You gave her a sympathetic look when you noticed the worry starting to settle in the woman’s face at the troublesome thought, it was her nightmare that she thought about frequently when Jo left on her own. But for this to actually happen, you knew it must have been eating her up inside. “Don’t worry, we’ll find Jo.” Dean said with reassurance.

“Either way, these people cannot just sit here.” Sam whispered. His gaze lingered for a second or two on the folks who quietly kept themselves quiet with their heavy thoughts. “We got to get them out now.”

“No. It’s not that easy. I’ve been trying. We already made a run for it once.” Ellen protested the idea, knowing it was foolish to think of such a thing. Sam asked her what happened from her answer. “There used to be twenty of us.”

You found yourself subconsciously making a mental headcount of the bodies in the room, you made it to about nine, and subtracting the number Ellen said, you realized the danger you would be putting everyone in if you tired to repeat history. Who knows how many would come back if you attempted to make an escape for it. “There’s four of now. ” Dean said, but you doubt the numbers would match how many dozens demons that were outside, just waiting for their next target. 

“You don’t know what it’s like out there. Demons are everywhere.” Ellen said. You knew even if you paired everyone off into groups of three, you couldn’t risk the chance of having someone fall behind from a demon you couldn’t see from the corner of your eye. “We won’t be able to cover everybody.”

“What if we give everyone guns?” Sam suggested. 

You nudged your elbow softly into Sam’s side to give his attention into the flaw of his faulty plan. “What—are you gunna arm up baby bump over there?” 

“More salt we can fire, more demons we can keep away.” Sam said, adding more reason for his plan.

Dean thought about his brother’s plan for a second when he presumed it might just work. Time was on your side, if you gave everyone a proper lesson of what to do, even taking the risk of taking out a few outside again, maybe….just maybe this plan could work in your favor. “There’s a sporting-good’s store we passed on Main we passed on the way. I bet they have guns.”

“All right, we’ll go. You stay here.” Sam nodded his head to Ellen to man down the fort as you looked over at the woman, who opened her mouth just a moment later, bringing up the people she was searching for before spotting the three of you. “If Jo and Rufus are out there, we’ll bring the back.”

Ellen wasn’t particularly pleased with the little room of control you were giving her for the situation, but she nodded her head in agreement, looking away to hide her growing nervousness. You gave her one last look before you turned around to head for the door, the man keeping guard waited for the three of you to head out before locking back up. Giving him a small smile, you stepped out first into the small hallway and headed for the staircase. You grabbed ahold of the banister with a free hand as you made it about two steps. But when you heard the lack of shuffling feet when the door closed back up, you looked over your shoulder to see the boys were standing just outside of the devil’s trap. Dea reached out a hand to stop his brother from going any further.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. Why don’t Y/N and I go?” Dean’s suggestion wasn’t like him. He normally liked it when all of you worked as a team, and knowing the threat outside, it seemed this was a risk you didn’t want to take. Sam’s reaction to share the same apprehension about letting the both of you head out there without possible backup. “Somebody’s got to stay here and start giving them shotgun one-oh-one.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed with his brother on that point. “Ellen.”

Dean refused to let this argument die. You felt yourself arching up a brow when you saw him leap forward to stop his brother, yet again, from making his way to the staircase to join you. “It’s gonna go a lot faster if you stay and help, okay?”

“What’s your big plan, Dean? You gonna go look for guns and salt while Y/N looks for Jo and Rufus? That’s a stupid idea.” Sam said. His older brother would have known better than to juggle too many tasks at a dangerous point like this. All of you could tackle the small jobs before heading out for a quick search of the town to see if you could spot the hunters. Dean shook his head, mumbling something about him and you being able to handle it. Sam narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at his older brother, suspicion of what his true motives were starting to become clear, despite the nonchalant stare Dean was giving him. “You don’t want me going out there.”

“I didn’t say that.” Dean said, being quick to defend himself.

“Around demons.” Sam continued on when he gotten a hunch of what Dean was hinting around.

“I didn’t say that.” Dean argued the same line, yet again.

“Good God, y'all.” You muttered underneath your breath, rolling your eyes in frustration before you glanced over at the brothers to defuse this argument. There was a time and place for them to hash out their passive aggressive remarks, but today was not one of them. “You boys wanna wrap this up? We’ve got a town full of demons, two hunters missing and eight survivors—nine if you count that unborn baby. Now if you want to sit here arguing like a bunch of amateurs, fine. I’ll head out there myself. Just give me the knife and I’ll be on my way.”

You outstretched your arm and made a gesture with your hand for Sam to give the demon knife so you could stick to your promise. The brothers broke their concentration away from one another and pretended like their argument had never took place. You gave a nod with your head for them to follow behind as you turned around on your spot from the second step on the staircase. As you began jogging up to the to of the top level of the church, you heard the brothers follow behind from their heavy stomps on the wooden staircase from their boots.

Heading back outside, you cautiously observed the area to see if there was anyone that might have stepped out from the woodwork and take a jump on all of you. But you were greeted with the same sight that hadn’t changed when you first arrived into town. You noticed the small market was right across the street, and the sporting-goods store Dean mention had to be at least a few minute walk from here. One of the good things about small towns, all your daily assistencials were just a five minute walk away. Positioning the shotgun, you glanced over at the boys while you crossed the same car with the baby stroller tucked underneath the wheel.

“Y/N and I’ll get the salt. You get the guns.” Sam said, deciding to be the one for making up the plans for this situation as he began walking just a bit faster, until he was in sync with you. “We’ll take a quick look to see if we can find anything before heading back, too.”

“No We’ll go together.” Dean suggested.

“Dean, it’s right there.” Sam argued with his brother. You kept your concentration ahead of you, restraining yourself from rolling your eyes once more. “Can we at least do this like professionals?”

Dean listened to the command as he slowly fell back, stopping in the middle of the road, letting Sam catch up with you before the two of you disappeared into the building. You opened up the door to the store, hearing the familiar jingle of the bell signaling your presence to whoever might be inside. You and Sam split up by taking different sides of the small store to see if there might be any other customers that were here for other reasons. When you checked every aisle and behind the counter, you made the safe conclusion the both of you were here alone. You grabbed a few plastic bags and tossed them over at Sam to get what supplies you might need.

You made a mental checklist of what you might need beside the salt, it wouldn’t hurt to be extra cautious. You wandered down the aisles looking for some small items you could carry back to the church for safekeeping before you and Sam headed back out into town to look for Rufus and Jo. The entire store was silent except for the very faint sound of Sam moving the canisters of rock salt into the bags you gave him. You wandered through the store with the shotgun until you stopped in the beginning of the aisle where Sam was. For a moment you watched as Sam quietly fill up the bag with as much salt as he could possibly fit. Leaning yourself against the shelves that displayed an array of canned goods, you realized this was the first time you and him were alone since this chaos started.

“"How are you holding up, Sammy?” Your question could be translated to however the younger Winchester personally wanted. It could have been a genuine approach of concern about how he was really handling the situation at hand, with no brother around, maybe he would feel comfortable enough to admit a few confessions. You watched as he stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment or so, as if he was contemplating to finally break down and see there was someone on his side. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

"Can you grab some more bags?” Sam, just like the Winchester way, diverted the conversation to something else. He pointed a finger across the store, you tried your hardest not to let your lips stretch into a frown of annoyance. “These are kind of getting heavy.” 

Sam’s neutral expression is something that is of complicated matters, in which, he’s too good for you to be able to see just a scrap of what he’s really feeling. You can’t see a spec of emotion in his eyes that detect sadness or guilt, there’s nothing but a look that reads like a classic aura of seriousness. He wants to get the job done. You bite the inside of your cheek, a habit that seems to be forming out of stress, and nod your head. Pushing yourself to a standing position, you head over to the front of the store and go straight to the register. Running your fingers across the counter, you bend over slightly to find where you gotten the plastic bags from before. But you barely made a second of searching before you hear Sam violently whisper your name from across the room. 

You look up slightly to see what he wants, yet you follow his index finger that hovers over the aisle that hides his ginormous frame. Furrowing your brow, you look over to the door just in time to see there’s two guys coming to the store, from the black eyes and baseball bat one of them is holding, you had a feeling they weren’t survivors. Throwing yourself to the dirty floors, you managed to hide yourself from the demons just as the bell chimes, announcing a new customer. You curl your lips inward so your teeth are keeping them tightly shut, a precaution to make sure they can’t hear you breathe. You hear the heavy thumps of boots across the floor. One of them heads to the back of the store while the other lingers in the front. 

A few swear words slip out from your mind when you realized the shotgun was still in the back of the place with Sam, along with the salt. You have no weapon to defend yourself. For someone who kept berating the boys for being unprofessional, you sure were making a lot of rookie mistakes on a hunt with some much at stake. But you decide to make one more, you need to figure out where the demons are before you could try and make some sort of escape. Inhaling a quiet breath, you place your hands on the ground, feeling the dust and accumulation of the tiniest amount of crumbs that touch your skin, while it’s an unpleasant experience, it gives you enough leverage to lean just the slightest to see what’s going on. As your eyes are the only thing visible behind the counter, your eyes widen ever so slightly when you hear the thumping sound of a can hitting the ground. 

Sam tried to play a distraction when he spotted one of the demons right across from him. He had two shotguns and the demon knife tucked in the back of his jeans. It could have been the perfect way to take out two more demons, but it ended up being the worst things he could have done. You scrambled to your feet when you noticed one coming your way while his friend dropped whatever he was trying to steal to the ground. You barely make it across the counter before the demon gets his hands on you. He roughly shoves you against the wall, pinning you in place for just a second. But you retaliate by swinging your fist, managing to throw a punch that sends his head at just the angle which doesn’t look pleasant. 

You notice the shotgun lying on the ground, if you’re fast enough, maybe you could grab it and momentarily stun the demon. Just as you were about to lunge forward, you suddenly find yourself staring at the end of a knife. You barely manage to block a swing, you hiss in pain when you feel the stinging sensation prickle across your skin. The demon managed to slice through the fabric of your shirt and give you a nick, but it’s not what he wants. Your hands quickly grab ahold of the knife by the handle, and by using every single fiber in your body, you try your hardest to push the blade away from you. You try your hardest to push him away, but the demon is stronger than you, and before you could stop it, you feel a gasp of pain escape your throat.

It had been barely four days since the incident Bobby had put himself through to save you and Dean from being slaughtered at the hands of Meg, the demon who you could never really shake off for too long. You glanced down at the knife to see that the blade had disappeared, and from the intense pain in your side, the demon lodged it into you. You felt yourself hitting the wall when he pulled out the knife from your body, with the blade dripping red, it was near impossible to protect yourself from what was about to come. You shielded yourself with a free hand as the other quickly put pressure on your wound, but before the demon could do anything, Sam roughly grabbed a hold of his wrist. You watched as everything unfolded, but you couldn’t keep up with what was happening, it was going too fast. Before you could steady yourself, you felt yourself slowly dropping to the ground.

You landed to the floor with a soft thud, the pain subsiding in your legs had passed, but the ache in your stomach had grown almost a million times worse. You pressed your palm against your wound, hopeful the shirt you were wearing would be enough to keep it from bleeding it too much before you could get back to safety. Letting out a shaky breath, you slowly looked away from your shirt that was starting to become soaked, and to the two bodies lying on the ground just a few feet away from you. It was supposed to be a simple run for supplies. How the hell did this happen?

Sam roughly held onto the demon knife with a iron tight grip while the other inspected the hunting knife one of the demons had been carrying. The stench of blood filled his nostrils and he steadied his breathing to a normal pace from the extrusion he put himself through. He glanced down for just a second to see how you were dealing with your wounds. You sat on the floor with your legs stretched out and both hands pressed against your stomach. From the looks of it, there wasn’t too much loss of blood, and thankfully, your legs twitched every so often. Sam sniffed the air once more when he noticed the pool of blood surrounding the bodies. But without even a second thought, he found himself lifting up the knife the demon had used to harm you. He examined the blade. Stainless steel, perfect for hunting and skinning animals. What Sam was most interested in was the blood, how it slowly dripped off the blade, almost effortless. Suddenly he felt his mouth go dry when he sniffed the blood again ,but this time, it smelled different, almost…comforting.

Without much of a thought, he reached out his hand, and by balancing the demon knife, his thumb brushed across the cold blade, picking up just the tiniest amount of the blood. There was not an ounce of demon blood left in his system, he hadn’t craved it for the past five days. But suddenly Sam was tempted all over again. This blood was a new strain of a drug, and, dammit, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted more. He wanted more than just a smell. Sam tilted his head to the side and wondered for just a moment What harm would come if he just…took a little taste? For old time’s sake. Nobody would know. Not you, not his judgemental brother.

Yet the thought vanished straight from his mind like the demon blood in his veins when he heard the jingling echo coming from the store entrance. Sam dropped himself to a crouch as you cautiously tried your hardest to somehow make yourself smaller, wondering if there was another demon wondering why their partners were taking forever. But relief flooded through you when you heard Dean ever so quietly call out, “Sam? Y/N?”

Dean wandered through the place after he dropped the duffel bags crammed with all sorts of different guns and ammunition he stolen from the sports store. He examined every single aisle he passed by, but when he gotten to the one where you and Sam were, he stopped straight in his tracks from the mess that had unfolded. The first thing he noticed was the two dead bodies on the ground, and slowly following the blood trail, Dean noticed right away Sam was hovering over it, red handed from the demon knife still caked in blood, and another knife. But his eyes slowly wandered down to the ground, where he noticed you, and the growing dark stain on your shirt. You moved a hand away to try and push yourself into a better sitting position against the wall so you could explain what happened, but all that came out was a muffled groan of pain.

“What the hell happened here?” Dean questioned the both of you. He rushed to your aid, dodging the dead bodies as he dropped the shotgun to your feet before placing a hand over yours to keep your wound from bleeding.

“Demons.” Sam tried to explain to his brother. “We got jumped—”

“Damn it, Sam! How could you let this happen?” Dean snapped with a venomous tone.

“It’s not his fault.” You manage to speak, despite how much it hurts. “I left my gun when they came. I should’ve kept it on me. Sam saved my life. Don’t bite his head off.”

Dean found himself taking your advice when he changed the subject, knowing all of you needed to get out of here before someone else came. He slowly helped you to your feet, quieting down your swear words and protests about the pain, ushering you that it wasn’t too far of a walk from the church. Sam tried to step in and help, but was brushed off when Dean passed him with his arm wrapped around your waist, taking much of your weight on him as he could. As the both of you got closer to the front entrance, Dean looked over his shoulder to give his brother a look. A look which Sam could translate into one simple saying he’s been hearing for the past week, “This is all your fault.”

\+ + +

You and the boys arrived back to the safety of the basement level of the church, where you were greeted with an unpleasant Ellen when she saw you with a blood soaked shirt. If you thought she had been stressed before, you had only added fuel to the fire. You gotten the chance to inspect your wounds further, and thanks to Brett, the man who had been guarding the door when you arrived, he and Dean worked together in getting your wounds cleaned up. You learned through small talk with him that he had served two tours in Fallujah. He gotten back a little after a year ago, during his time in the army he saw a thing or two. Your wounds weren’t drastic as you presumed them to be. The “scratch” you gotten while trying to dodge the first attack and your stab wound just needed some stitches. But you settled with some gauze and flimsy medical tape Dean found buried in the bottom of the first aid kit until you could get something better.

You kept yourself busy by helping whoever might need a more intimate lesson on gun safety on who might need it. As you helped Roger, the one you remembered as confessing to his wife attacking him with a brick, you observed him as he tried loading a few rounds into the chamber of the gun. Dean watched for a few moments to see that you and Ellen had most of this under control. He glanced around the room to see that his brother was sulking across the way. Dean headed over to the man and took a seat down on the steps, thinking the younger man’s sour face was partially his fault for what he’d said.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked him.

Sam wouldn’t answer right away. He fell into a moment of silence when he glanced away from Dean, his eyes wandered around the room, subconsciously looking over at you and watching as you worked, almost as nothing happened, but the blood on your shirt told a different story. He wished that everything happened differently. “Just…at the store. I know I had to do what I did. But it’s bothering me. Those demons were possessing teenagers.” Sam admitted. “I mean, I had to slit some kid’s throat.”

“Come on, Sam.” Dean muttered to him, annoyance could be detected in his tone as he rolled his eyes from his brother’s too good of a heart. “You had to. If you didn’t, Y/N might be dead.”

“I know. I just—it used to be…” Sam trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way to explain how he was feeling. “I just wish I could save people, like I used to.”

“What,” Dean seemed to have read clearly into what this little brother was trying to say without even realizing it. “You mean when you were all hopped up on demon blood?”

Sam tried covering himself as he fumbled out an excuse, “I-I didn’t say that.”

“I’m heading out.” Ellen’s voice brought the brothers away from a conversation that could have possibly turned into a petty argument. You looked over your shoulder when you noticed she had wandered off, you noticed she was with the boys. Sam looked at her with a serious expression, asking where she going. “I can’t sit here on my ass. My daughter’s out there somewhere. My daughter’s out there somewhere. I’m not back in half an hour, go. Get these people out of here.”

“No, wait.” Sam pushed himself to his feet, his brother followed in his actions just a second later. “I’ll go with you.”

“Whoa. Hold on. Can I talk to you for a second?” Dean asked, stopping the younger Winchester. You watched as the both of them wandered off into the outskirts of the doorway. Ellen turned her head to look at you, slightly curious to see what this was about. You found yourself wondering the same thing when you headed for the doorway, hiding behind the closed door, you listened to what this was about. “You’re gonna go out there again?”

“Well, crap doesn’t hit the fun with coffee breaks.” Sam said. Dean didn’t waste a single breath when he offered the chance to go with Ellen instead. “It’s fine. Just stay here with Y/N, get ‘em ready. I’ll cover Ellen.”

“Why’s it gotta be you?” Dean questioned his little brother.

You could detect from Dean’s voice what this argument was all about, and it seemed Sam did, too. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Sam mumbled with a snarky tone. “You think I’ll take one look at a demon and suddenly fall off the wagon, as if, after everything, I haven’t learned my lesson.”

Dean stared at the younger man for a second, knowing well enough what he seen at the store. There was something in his brother’s eye when he was surrounded by the pool of demon blood, it was swinging a bottle of whisky in front of an alcoholic. His mind was somewhere else for that moment as you laid bleeding on the floor, it was almost like Sam forget everything about him, except for that droplet of blood on his thumb. Dean was just insinuating a presumption from mere observation. “Well, have you?”

Sam couldn’t help himself when he roughly pushed his brother against the wall, overcome with frustration at the accusation being tossed around. He could live with the fact that the man didn’t trust him. But it was another for him to start an argument that was just asking for trouble. “If you actually think—” Sam hissed at the man with anger, but he stopped himself when he noticed you were lingering in the doorway.

“Is everything okay?” You asked the both of them with a quiet voice.

“Fine.” Sam muttered underneath his breath.

You stepped out of the way just in time when Sam made his way back into the room. It seemed they settled who was going when the younger Winchester grabbed his shotgun from the table and went back out to the hall, passing by his brother without even a second glance. Ellen rolled along with the situation, heading out to the streets to find her missing daughter.

\+ + +

Ellen said they would be gone for half an hour, it had been going on over an hour since she said she would be back with Sam. You glanced down at your phone one more time to read the time before you put it back to the table, trying to mask your worry of what was going on. Maybe they had found Jo and Rufus, maybe they were jumped by a bunch of demons. You bit your lip and forced the thought out of your mind. The goal here was to keep everyone calm, including yourself. You tried getting yourself to listen at the bible verse the priest had been reading to keep everyone’s spirits high, but you kept observing Dean from the corner of your eye as he kept pacing back and forth, wanting some kind of sign to know what was going on. He got it just a second later, from the knock on the door.

You jumped out of your skin from the noise you weren’t expecting. You turned your head to the door, along with everyone else, curious to see who it was. Dean didn’t waste a second when he headed over, moving the heavy wooden statue out of the way after cautiously looking out the peephole when he noticed it was Ellen. Swinging open the door, you watched as Ellen stepped into the room. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone, the woman just came inside the room and headed for the table, putting down her gun. You noticed the look on her face, she was distraught, as if she’d witnessed something terrible.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked the important question when he noticed Ellen had come in alone.

You could feel your heart jump into your stomach when you saw Ellen respond with a shake of the head. She took a seat right next to you, guilt creeping into her expression from what she let happen without much of a choice. “They took him? Demons took him?” Susan, the pregnant woman, asked what you had dreaded to hear. You could hear the fear in her voice from what was happening. “What if they’re in here–the demons?”

“No.” You managed to give her answer, despite how quiet your voice came out.

“Everybody sit tight. I got to…” Dean grabbed the shotgun from the table, thinking this problem could be solved by handling this situation himself with just adrenaline alone. You watched as he got far as the closed double doors, all before he stopped in his tracks, realizing this plan was more of a suicide attempt if he were to go out there alone. You called out the man’s name, dragging him back into reality. Despite how much the brothers argued, they wanted the best for each other. Dean cursed underneath his breath and turned back around, deciding to do the smart thing, by figuring out what the hell was going on. “Okay, we need to get a plan together. Tell me everything.”

\+ + +

“One of them is in Jo. We got to get out of her without hurting her.” Ellen tried explaining the best she could of what she saw out there to you and Dean. The three of you crowded around the far end of the table, away from the others for some privacy. You could see she was still shaken up ever the slightest from what she had witnessed. But it seemed from the scoff that came out a moment later, something caught her off guard when she reminisced, almost as if she found the demon’s foul mouth hurtful. “It called me a bitch.”

“Bruise a little easy, don’t you think?” Dean made a slight remark, thinking the woman had thicker skin than to actually listen to a few insults a demon threw at her way.

“No, that’s not what I meant. It called me a black-eyed bitch.” Ellen corrected herself, you looked at her with a funny expression, thrown off yourself from why a demon would say that. “What kind of demons are these? Holy water and salt roll right off. My daughter may be an idiot, but she’s not stupid. She wears an anti-possession charm. It’s all kind of weird, right?”

You leaned back in your seat and shook your head, knowing that was an understatement of its own. You had met a few demons who weren’t affected to holy water, Lilith and Azazel, but they were higher up on the food chain. These demons were more lower ranking nobodies, probably nothing more than the bottom of the barrel. “The whole thing’s off.” You admitted with a sigh. You found yourself subconsciously playing with the hole in your shirt, your fingertips ever so lightly touched the gauze covering your wound.

“What’s your instincts?” Ellen asked the both of you.

“My instinct?” Dean repeated after the woman. You glanced down to see that he absentmindedly began playing with the ring he always wore on his right hand. “My instinct is to call Bobby and ask for help. Or Sam.”

“Well, tough. All you got’s me and Y/N, and all we got’s you.” Ellen said with a serious tone. She was right about one thing, it was just the three of you now. It would have to be enough to save the day. “So let’s figure it out.”

Ellen stared at the both of you for a moment with the kind of expression that would whip anyone back into shape. But when the slightest smile began to form at the end of her lips, you could feel the same happening to you. “All right.” You said, nodding your head in agreement. “Do you know why Rufus came to town? Was there a specific omen?”

“He said something about water.” Ellen admitted. “That’s all I know.”

“Padre,” Dean glanced over at Father Matthews when he happened to be walking down at the far end of the table. The pastor stopped in his tracks and looked over at Dean, caught off guard after being pulled away from his task. “You know what she’s talking about—the water?”

“Uh, the…” Father Matthews thought to himself for a moment, before the memory came back to him. “The river—ran polluted all of a sudden.”

“When?” You asked.

“Last Wednesday.” Brett answered, heading over to the table himself after overhearing the conversation. “And the demon thing started up the next day.”

“Anything else?” Dean asked the two men. You could see the both of them give each other a look, as if there was something they wanted to say. “Anything.”

“Maybe. But it’s pretty random.”

“Good. Random’s good.”

“Shooting star—does that count? Real big. Same night—Wednesday.” Brett said. Nodding your head in agreement from what you heard, you wondered for a moment of why this sounded familiar to you. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet, making sure you didn’t tear at the gauze keeping your wound covered best as it could. Wincing slightly, you forced yourself to the bookshelf you spotted right across from the double doors. It only took a second of searching before you found the bible, a small copy amongst a few others you had spotted. You headed back to the table and took a seat once more. “So, uh, you think that all this comes from outer space?”

“This isn’t ‘X-Files,’ pal.” Dean remarked to the man with an eyeroll from the assumption.

You propped the book up to its spine and cracked it open to the middle, you began flipping through several pages and skimming through a few passages, until you found the exact one which you were looking for. “'And there fell a great star from Heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell upon the river, and the name of the star was wormwood and many men died.’”

“Revelation 8:10.” Father Matthews mumbled ever so quietly underneath his breath, realizing what passage you were speaking from. You glanced up from the book as you softly placed it onto the table when you heard him speak up, this time, with a tremble of fear in his voice. “Are you saying that this is about the…apocalypse?”

Dean looked over at the pastor, “You could say.”

“And these specific omens,” You asked Father Matthews. “They’re prelude to what?

“The four horsemen.” He managed to croak out an answer.

"And which one rides the red horse?”

“War.”

“That could explain the cherry mustang parked on Main.” You noted, thinking it could be a possibility for something else. It was conspicuous enough where it could blend into everyday life without drawing attention if the creator of the madness wanted a front row seat to seeing his disaster unfold. But Father Matthews seemed hesitant at believing your theory. “Think about it for a second. What if War is a man? He’s got to get here on his blood red horse. But that might draw some unwanted attention. I have a feeling he’s here…messing with our heads.”

“Turning us on each other.” Ellen added, getting at your possible theory.

“You said Jo called you a black-eyed bitch.” You said, the woman nodded her head as the slightest somber expression settled on her face, You thought about it for a moment or so. And then it made sense of what was going on, Using other people’s fears against them, making everyone use their survival skills to weed out the competition, until there was nobody left. This wasn’t the Croatoan virus. This was just about senseless actions of violence. “They think we’re demons. We think they’re demons. What if there is no demons at all and we’re all just killing each other?”

“Wait—just back up.” Father Matthews said. You looked over at him to see that he was hooked on another piece of information that he was still trying to process. “It’s the apocalypse?”

“Sorry, padare.” Dean said with a grim expression.

\+ + +

You wondered what was going on with Sam after you realized the truth of what was really happening. It was a slight comforting thought to know it was really Jo and Rufus who was keeping the younger Winchester captive, not some demons who hitched a free ride to raise a bit of Hell. But they were still hunters and they probably viewed Sam as a demon, despite all the protest he gave. You were fearful to think of what they were doing to him after being gone for a few hours now after dark had settled, making it too dangerous to venture out tonight. Just because you knew everyone out there were humans, it didn’t mean they were going to think of you as anything less than a monster. You let out a sigh as you began worrying if Sam was all right, and if that big brain of his had figured for himself that something wasn’t right. 

The younger Winchester had gotten the feeling after seeing Rufus and Jo weren’t possessed after seeing the both of them step step out of the devil’s trap without a problem. Not to mention the little detail when they handled holy water and salt, nothing happened to them. Their black eyes he once saw them with vanished when they were pouring salt down his throat and conducting an exorcism on him after they kept thinking he was a demon himself. But Jo and Rufus were perplexed themselves when Sam wasn’t screaming in pain when being tortured with all the things that were a demon’s known weakness. After trying for the past hour, both admitted defeat, leaving Sam tied to a chair underneath the devil’s trap, showing no signs of getting out of here. He was forced to be with his own thoughts and watched as the sun settled down for the night, leaving the room into almost darkness, the array of lit candles around the room along with a burning fireplace help give a little bit of light in the room, but it wasn’t like he had a chance of getting out of here.

Sam had been left alone for the past hour by himself, he spent the time by contemplating of how he could get either Rufus or Jo to listen to figure out he wasn’t a demon. But he was pulled away from his thoughts when the silence was pierced by a rattling door handle. Sam’s eyes were drawn away from the design in the carpet he could barely make out in the shadowy light and to the rusty golden handle, he watched as it twisted and turned, shaking out of place from a few loose screws. The door swung open just the slightest a moment later, all though the person standing in the doorway wasn’t a hunter, but a survivor that should have been in the church basement with you and his older brother.

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked the man standing in the doorway. If his mind remembered correctly, the stranger’s name was Roger, he confessed to killing his wife after she came after him with a brick. But seeming him here, after getting past two hunters without making a sound, Sam had a feeling Roger wasn’t exactly who he said he was. Roger stood in the doorway and took off his glasses, deciding the charade was over. “What are you?”

“You caught me. Popped in to watch.” Roger said with a little too casual of an attitude for Sam’s personal liking. He thought it would be funny to throw in a bit of an improvised move to make his point further. Sam narrowed his eyes on the man with caution.“I can hustle like that.”

“So, the Roger everyone here knows,” Sam asked with curiosity to see what he was dealing with here. “The real Roger?”

“Buried in a ditch.” The man replied with a shrug as he closed the door behind him.

“Mm-hm.” Sam hummed ever so quietly, watching as the stranger closed the door behind him to give the both of them a bit of privacy. The creature posing as Roger walked across the room and decided to get himself comfortable for a little chat, Sam presumed that’s what he wanted when he pulled up a chair to sit right across from the younger man. Sam stared at him for a moment, deciding to be a bit repetitious for the sake of figuring out the right answer. “So, who are you?”

“Here’s a hint. I was in Germany. Than in Germany. Than in the Middle East. I was in Darfur when my beeper went off.” Roger decided to play a little game, thinking if he rounded off a few current events mixed with some old history lessons, the younger Winchester would finally understand what he was dealing with. “I’m waiting to hook up with my siblings. I’ve got three. We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

“I know who you are.” Sam scoffed, realizing who he was sitting across from after listening to all the little hints. It wasn’t hard to figure out Roger wasn’t some townsfolk, he was War. Lucifer wasn’t the only thing that was freed after breaking the last seal, there was much more to the rapture than taking down the Devil. There was the four horsemen to consider, too. And War was one nasty son of a bitch that craved chaos. “There aren’t any demons in town, are there?”

“Nope. Just frightened people ripping each other’s throats out. I really haven’t had to do much. Take out a bridge here, lay in a little hallucination there—sit back, pop some corn, watch the show.” War said. A smug smirk began to creep across the man’s face from what he was able to accomplish without lifting much as his finger. “Frankly, you’re really vicious little animals, Sam.”

Sam thought back to what he’d done, a heavy burden began to sit in the pit of his stomach when he figured out the two teens—the ones he thought were demons—had been nothing more than innocent bystanders, just trying to survive like you and him. “No. You’re doing this.”

War rolled his eyes from the accusation, “Please. Last week, this was Mayberry. Now these people are stabbing each other’s children.”

“Cause you made them see demons!” Sam argued with the man.

“Honestly, people don’t need a reason to kill each other. I mean, you seen the Irish? They’re all Irish.” War tried reasoning with the younger Winchester, blaming this entire situation on nature of how man used to be. But Sam wouldn’t stop staring at him with that judgemental little glare. “You think I’m a monster. I’m jello shots at a party. I just remove inhibitions.”

“I’m gonna kill you myself.” The younger man threatened with a low and dark tone.

War replied with a throaty laugh, “Oh, that’s adorable, considering you’re my poster boy.

Sam looked at the man with a perplexed expression, "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t stop thinking about it—ever since you saw it dripping off the blade of that knife. And I’m not talking about those poor bastards you wasted.” War said. Sam’s face slowly fell when he thought back to the store, and to the knife that he was holding. It wasn’t the demon knife, but the one you had been attacked with, your blood was the smell he was infatuated with. Sam shook his head, denying the accusation. “Save your protests for your brother. I can see inside your head. And, man, it is one-track city in there. Blood, blood, blood.” War leaned forward in his seat, ever so slightly amused as how the hunter began to squirm in his seat, shifting around his gaze, but he hadn’t even gotten to the real desire he’d been craving. Sam’s eyes darted back at him from what he said next. “Lust.”

“What? No.” Sam denied the truth. “You’re wrong.”

“For power, for her. I can’t really tell. You just want it all, Sammy. You want another swing to kick that big ego up again. You want to be strong again. But not just strong. Stronger than everybody. And you know she can bring you to the top.” War said, planting an idea in side the young man’s mind. “She’s got a new strain of your favorite drug, and it’s better than that hell bitch could ever give you. I mean, of course she’s your better half, but you probably wondered…what if? I mean, I’m a firm believer in that stupid little saying—'everything happens for a reason.’ That’s why I needed to spill just a bit of Y/N’s blood. She’s no good dead to me, neither are you sober. See what I mean? I did you a favor.”

"You think I’d feed off of her? Never.” Sam hissed at the man. “You’re a sick, son of a bitch.”

“Please. I’m just saying what’s been up in that head of yours. You’re human, Sam, it’s normal to want companionship. And maybe…a little bit more. You think about it with the best of intentions and bury it away because you think it’s never gonna happen. But that’s where I come in. I take all those barriers away and give you the leverage you want—you need.” War gave an opposition that any fool would take up for grabs, but Sam’s will power wouldn’t crack. He stared at the man with a cold glare. “You and those good intentions—quick slide to Hell, buddy boy. It’s not gonna last very long. Because you got a taste and you’re always gonna want more. It’s going to be in your head. Nagging and nagging until you break down and finally sink your teeth for that sinful taste.”

Sam was backed into a corner when his eyes began to jump around the room, he swallowed, admitting guilt for what he found himself thinking over the past several hours. He didn’t know where this came from, but for some reason, he agreed with everything that was being spoken without a word of protest. “You feel bad now? Wait until you’re thigh-deep in warm corpses. Because, my friend, I’m just getting started.” Sam watched as the man got up from his chair and decided their little chat was finally over. War put a hand into the inside of his suit jacket pocket to fetch out his glasses. Making sure everything was in place, he glanced down at the hunter with a smirk. “Showtime for the meatsuits.”

\+ + +

“So, now you’re saying that there are no demons and that war is a guy.”

“You believed crazy before.”

Admitting a different theory from what you first began with was sure to draw up some skepticism. You gotten an earful of it from Brett, who seemed to find the idea of the apocalypse happening around you nothing more than a comical joke. You watched as he paced around the room, trying to make sense of the situation as Dean stood up, his palms pressed against the table. He glanced over at Ellen to see if she could offer any advice that might help make this situation go a little better than what it wasn’t. But before anyone could help smooth this situation along, your attention was dragged to the double doors that lead to the staircase outside, your brow furrowed tightly together when you heard pounding erupt from the outside, pleading for someone to open up followed just seconds after. Brett headed straight for the doors and opened them up to reveal a very frantic Roger.

“I saw them—the demons.” Roger managed to say between deep pants for breath. You watched as he headed over to the table and leaned over to get his breathing in order. “They know we’re trying to leave. They said they’re gonna pick us off one by one.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What?” You asked the man with all sorts of confusion.

“I thought you said there were no demons.” Brett said with a suspicious tone.

“There’s not.” You answered for him before anyone else could. You silenced him for a moment as you glanced over at Roger, wondering how he managed to slip under the radar without anyone knowing. “Where did you go?”

“I thought someone should go out and see what’s going on!” Roger said, acting as if he was playing the hero.

“Where did you see the demons, and what did they say exactly?”

“We just sit here, we’re gonna be dead.”

“No, we’re not!”

“They’re gonna kill us—unless we kill them first.”

“Okay, hold on. Hold on.”

“No, man, we got people to protect.”

“Everyone, calm down!” You shouted on the top of your lungs. You managed to bring the room to a complete silence and stopped Brett from handing off a gun to someone. “Can’t you see this is what he wants? This is not a demon thing. It’s all about fear and he’s using it against you. Now, we just have to…”

You found yourself trailing off in thought as you mindlessly glanced over at Roger, you noticed he lifted up his right hand, the one where he wore his gold ring. You thought it was just his wedding band, but it was about to become more deadlier than you once presumed. He gave you a sly wink and twisted the band with his index finger. “Look at their eyes!” A split second later, he was pointing the finger at you, his demeanour changing into panic as he began backing away like you were the monsters here. “They’re demons!”

Your eyes widened from the accusation that was being pointed against you. You turned your head to look at Dean and Ellen, while everyone else saw inky black eyes, you saw them as normal. Before you could tell them it was a hallucination, you were nearly jumping a foot in the air when Father Matthews decided to be a bit trigger happy and shot directly at Dean. The three of you wasted no time in scurrying for the front door, realizing you were now the predators you warned the prey about.

\+ + +

When the morning came, the streets might have been deserted, but you knew soon it would be filled with dead bodies and blood if you weren’t fast enough to stop this. The three of you managed to find refuge in some abandoned house not too far from the church. Ellen had remembered where Jo and Rufus were staying, but without a single scratch of a weapon to defend yourselves with, it would be a bit of a tough break to knock on the front door without getting a bullet to the chest. Everyone thought you were demons, you doubt both the hunters weren’t affected from whatever War was doing. But you knew Sam was still in their care, and if you wanted to save the day, you needed all the help you could get.

Dean and Ellen comprised on the deal of working together to take down each hunter. They couldn’t just sneak in the back door or through a window, Ellen warned you about Rufus and his special tactics to keep himself extra careful. That’s where you would come in. You had a pretty rusty swinging arm, but you had a feeling from the distance you put yourself at, it would be enough to do exactly what you had figured. You kept yourself hidden behind an abandoned car that was exactly across from the house both of the hunters had been staying in. Ellen had said Rufus liked to wire up windows with pipe bombs to make sure whoever was stupid enough to trip the wire might lose an arm or two. To keep that from happening, you carefully tossed a decent rock up in the air, waiting as Ellen and Dean cautiously trailed themselves over to the house. When they were at a safe distance, you stood up and got yourself at the perfect position with the window on the front porch. You swung back an arm, and with all your might, you landed a bulls eye in the glass, shattering it completely.

You quickly dropped yourself to your knees and covered your ears when you heard the explosion go off, sending a decent amount of debris to the ground. The plan had worked out like you hoped. It was exactly the perfect distraction to give Ellen and Dean a few moments to sneak while Rufus looked for bloody limbs as the smoke cleared. You leaned yourself against the car and winced in pain from the exertion you weren’t exactly ready for. Inhaling a few deep breaths, you tried to give yourself a bit of time to try and gain some energy back before heading in to cover as back up. Yet you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be all that easy when you heard the sound of loud voices coming from the front porch, you recognized one of them as Dean’s.

Peeking out from the car, you slowly looked up to see a man you’ve never seen struggling to keep down the older Winchester as they argued about something. If you guessed from the age, this was the infamous Rufus you had heard about from Bobby. You let out a frustrated sigh as your hand placed itself against your stomach for a brief moment, knowing that Dean was going to need some backup if he wanted to take down a man like Rufus. You pushed yourself to your feet once more and headed for the porch, adding yourself to this fight.

You came in just at the right moment when Rufus was slammed down to the ground by Dean, but he was struggling to keep the hunter pinned down long enough to explain what’s was going on. Dean tried to tell him about the cautious signs of War, but the way it was coming out, it wasn’t exactly translating well between them.

“He means the horsemen!” You quickly bent down and snatched Rufus by his arm, managing to block before it could come. Rufus was caught off guard from seeing you, a stranger that he never met before, but from seeing you without demon eyes, it seemed he was a bit more trustful to see what you had to say. “He’s turning us against each other. You’re hallucinating.”

Rufus stopped struggling a moment later when he began to process what you admitted. He slowly looked over at Dean to see that there were no more inky black eyes staring at him. "Horsemen.” He muttered underneath his breath. “War.”

“Oh my, God. Yes.” You gritted your teeth. “Want me to spell it out for you?”

“Did you figure this out all by yourself, genius?” Rufus asked the older Winchester. “Or did your smart ass mouth of a partner help?”

You couldn’t help yourself but grow the slightest smirk from Rufus’ comment as you got off of him, letting Dean help the man to his feet. The three of you might have been caught up, but you realized you had left the Harvelles along to fight their own battle. You headed for the front door and opened it open without a moment of caution. But you found yourself stopping dead in your tracks when you saw Ellen swinging a loaded shotgun in your direction with Jo cautiously by her side.

“We all on the same page?” Ellen asked the three of you. All of you nodded your heads. "Good.“

"Good.” You breathed out, feeling a bit confident to put your hands down as Ellen lowered her gun away from you. You looked over just slightly to see her daughter staring at you and Dean back and forth. You gave her a smile, knowing it wasn’t always the best circumstances you were seeing her again in. “Hi, Jo.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Jo said, seeming happy herself to see the both of you.

“Welcomes aside, we got to find War before everybody in town kills each other.” Dean said. But it seemed he was already too late from the first gunshot just a second later. You quickly dropped to your knees for cover when gunfire from outside erupted without warning. “Where’s Sam?”

Rufus pointed upstairs, not waiting to hear the vocal answer when you heard the gunshots die for just a split second. You and Dean raced up the steps as the rest went their separate ways. You checked the first door on the left and swung it open, thinking it wasn’t going to be that easy, but when you stepped inside, you were greeted with Sam. You let out a sigh of relief to see him in one piece.

“Guys,” Sam warned the both of you. “It’s not demons.”

“It’s war.”

“It’s war.”

Both of the brothers repeated after themselves when they came to the same conclusion. You couldn’t help yourself but let out the tiniest laugh at their impeccable timing as you pulled out a knife from your back pocket. You and Dean worked quickly at cutting Sam free from his bonds. “I just can’t figure out how he’s doing it.” You admitted, the blade of your knife slicing through the rope keeping down his right arm. When Sam mentioned a ring, you looked up at him, suddenly remembering what you witnessed. “The ring. The ring—that’s right. He turned it right before he made everybody hallucinate and go hellbitch.”

Helping Sam out of the chair, you had a feeling War wasn’t going to stick around to see his final work play through. He gotten what he wanted from the distant sound of gunshots coming from outside, everyone was on the very last nerve, and it was only a matter of time until he got in his red horse and walked away.

\+ + +

One week ago this small little town of Mayberry had nothing more to offer than family owned business and people giving so much trust in one another by keeping their doors unlocked at night. Today it was a deserted wasteland with bodies lying to bleed in the streets and scurries of small groups of survivors clinging together to get out of town before they were picked off. Everything went as exactly how he wanted it. Roger was a suitable choice after all, an older gentlemen nobody would think could cause any harm if they passed him by the street. War examined his little project with a growing victorious little smile. Wait until his brothers hear about this, it would be a tough act to follow. Heading forward to his red horse, a vintage two door cherry red mustang, it felt like a day of a victorious win. Chuckling to himself, he was about to shove his hand into the pocket of his dress pants, but they slipped out of his hands when he felt something grab ahold of his arms.

“Leaving so soon?” You asked with a too sweet of a voice. You stared at the man with an arched brow, knowing with the boys pinning War into place, you slowly pulled out the demon knife from your back pocket. “And here I thought we were having so much fun.”

“That’s a sweet little knife.” He commented with a smirk. Even though he didn’t have much leverage here with no chance to getting towards the ring he wore on his finger, there was a little piece of information that might have slipped your mind. “But, come on. You can’t kill war.”

“Oh, I know.”

Without a warning, the brothers shoved the man forward and pinned him against the hood of the car, giving you access to his right hand after Dean forced his palm against the cold metal, giving you access to what gruesome act of violence you were about to do next. You pressed the blade of the demon knife to Roger’s index finger and cut it right off. You grimaced in discomfort when you felt the blood spatter accidentally land on your face, but the distant sound of the ring dropping to the pavement was worth it.

Disregarding the index finger, you reached for the gold band abandoned on the ground and picked it up to examine the detail for a moment’s time. But when you glanced over to see his reaction, you were taken back to see that War disappeared, there wasn’t a trace of the red car or the man he once possessed. It was as if nothing happened.

\+ + +

You shifted around in the backseat of the Impala, trying to get yourself just a tad more comfortable as you pushed the duffel bag closer to make sure it supported your neck and head just right. Too exhausted for your own good, you were spending this early afternoon taking a much needed rest, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin that peeked out from the windows open windows, letting even a bit of a breeze come through. Feeling a bit more secure, you slowly rested your eyes once more, letting sleep take you away. Back outside, not too far from where the car was parked, the brothers occupied a picnic bench and examined the scenery of a rest stop that was abandoned for the most part, except for the three of you.

Dean squinted his eyes to examine the gold ring further with detail as he lifted up closer to the sky, wondering if he could make out anything that was closely special. There wasn’t much detail, even with the blood washed away, it remained as another golden band ring, with the owner being one of the four horsemen, naturally. “So, pit stop at Mt. Doom after Y/N wakes up?”

Sam quietly scoffed at his brother’s joke and looked away from the ring, letting his gaze settle on the miles of wilderness keep his attention for a moment or so, the silence kept his thoughts at bay for just another minute or so longer. But when he found himself going out of his way to look over at his shoulder and to the Impala, a thought popped into his mind, something that didn’t even occur to him, until last night. He didn’t know if it was the paranoia of relapsing, or if it could be a possibility. But Sam wasn’t taking any chances. He’d already screwed up enough.

“Dean—”

“Sam,” The oldest Winchester cut off his little brother when he had a feeling he knew where this conversation was about to go. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, all he wanted was to enjoy some normalcy for once this week. The monster was dead, everyone they could have saved was okay. Dean closed his palm with the ring and glanced up at the man sitting across from him. “Let’s not.”

“No, listen. This is important. I know you don’t trust me. Just, after what happened to me and Y/N, I realized something. I don’t trust me either.” Sam admitted the painful truth that had been sitting inside his head for hours now. He had time to think, replay the memory again and again, deny what he felt was something planted in his head. But he was scared for the what if. He didn’t want to let anyone control him anymore. “From the minute I saw the blood, it was the only thought in my head. But it wasn’t the kids that caught me off guard…I think it was Y/N’s. It was sort of the same, but different.”

 

Sam managed to gain the strength to look at his brother straight in the eye, nervous to see how the man was going to react, Dean just stared at him with a calm expression, giving him a chance to explain himself. “I almost did it. I told myself it’s for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? I think it was just because I miss the feeling. And it brought me back to that high. I know how messed up this sounds, which means how messed up I am.Thing is, the problem’s not Y/N, or the demon blood, not really. I mean, what I did to myself and her, I can’t blame Ruby for tricking me into doing it, or the blood when I was on it.”

Sam let out a heavy sigh, knowing he’d screwed up. He subconsciously glanced over his shoulder to look at the Impala again, all before turning his attention back to his older brother. “The problem’s

. How far I’ll go to get there again. And what I do when I’m on it. There’s something in me in that…scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse.”

“So what are you saying?” Dean asked, needing to know what to make of this confession. 

“I’m in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back ‘cause I’m dangerous. Who knows what I might do if this happens again.” Sam suggested. The plan of action wasn’t the one he wanted this to come towards, not at a time like this, but he wasn’t left with much room for protest. There was too much to consider he would be gambling if he wanted to stay. “Maybe it’s best if Y/N and you go your own separate ways from me.”

Dean fell silent after hearing the proposition from his little brother. He mindlessly looked around, trying his hardest to protest the idea, knowing he would give anything for the three of you to stay together. But he glanced down at the table and examined the cracks in the splintered wood, his finger ran over a rusty nail that peeked out ever so slightly. "Well,” Dean spoke up. After taking things into consideration and fully processing what Sam had to say, he gave the man an honest answer. “I think you’re right.”

The younger Winchester seemed a bit taken back from the agreement that happened a little too fast. He thought Dean would have shot down the idea for the sake of keeping things normal, or just telling him to suck it up and deal with the problem, because all of you had more important things to worry about. "I was expecting a fight.” 

“The truth is, I spend more time worrying about you than doing the job right. And if you’re about about…this,” Dean stopped talking for a moment, he gestured to the Impala by the nod of his head. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling guilty himself for what he was about to admit, but it was the truth. “I don’t want to take the chance. It feels like I just got her back. Not to mention everything going on. It’d be the best thing for everyone. And I just—I can’t afford that, you know? Not now.” 

Sam understood a little too well of what it was like to choose someone over another when it really mattered the most. He could have made the right decision and chose his family over a demon. But he didn’t. Sam couldn’t be upset for what he brother did, this was the consequences of his actions.

Dean was being the bigger person here, swallowing the bitter feeling and guilt for choosing you over his own flesh and blood, it only hurt because it was the right decision. “I’m sorry, Dean.” Sam mumbled with sincerity.

“I know you are, Sam.” Dean said. He knew his brother was, he had since this very beginning. It was A moment of tensed silence fell between the two of them, leaving them to wonder what to do next, almost if they were hesitant to start the next chapter of their lives, for how long it was going to last. Sam let out a very quiet sigh as he kicked one leg over to straddle the seat, before he could get up, his brother spoke up again. “Hey, you, uh…want to take the Impala?”

"That’s okay.” Sam shook his head, giving a fraction of a smile from the offer. He swallowed and pushed himself to his feet to the grass, suddenly making him realize this was about to happen. There was no going back, he told himself this was for the best. “Take care of yourself, Dean. And don’t screw things up too much with Y/N, okay?”

"I can’t promise you she’s not gonna bite my head off. But I’ll try.” Dean admitted. He could only imagine what your reaction was going to be when you figured out what was going on. But since you were tucked away in the Impala, peacefully sleeping, it helped stopped a bit of the blow for what was going to come later after you realized he was gone for good. He looked at his little brother and nodded his head, deciding this was the final goodbye. “Be careful out there, Sammy.”

Sam swallowed and let out a sigh, nodding his head ever so slightly, there was no more delaying this anymore. He put one foot in front of the other, and soon enough, the ground beneath his feet changed into gravel as he spotted the Impala as the only thing in his view. Sam hesitantly stared into the backseat to see that his backpack was sitting on the floor, a few inches from where your hand was lying. If he was careful enough he might be able to squeeze it out without waking you. Sam took the chance and leaned forward, he slowly tried to extract the bag slowly as possible, but he winced when he accidentally knocked the bag next to your hand, your eyelids began to flutter open. A second later, he found himself staring at you with half-opened lids and a lazy smile. He thought you were going to say something, but you brushed this off as nothing. Sam watched as you shifted back around in your seat best as you could before falling back asleep, thinking he would be here when you woke up.

\+ + +

“What do you mean he’s gone?!”

You stood in the entrance of the bathroom with your toothbrush pushed off to the side of your mouth, accidentally making your words come out jumbled, but your anger was clear from your loud tone of voice. You spent a few hours in the new motel with Dean after waking up from a little nap that turned out to be you sleeping most of the day away. The clock on the nightstand read around midnight and you weren’t exhausted. You thought the plan for tonight would be to recover from the last hunt, you and Dean would bunk together, Sam would get his own room, like how it’s been since this situation started. You didn’t think much of Sam’s absence after you checked in. But when you suggested the idea of at least trying to squeeze in some time to do research with him, something the two of you frequently did to check for a new hunt, Dean, hesitantly, gave you the news.

“Look, Y/N,” Dean sat on the bed and tried to explain the reasoning one more time, hoping you wouldn’t cut him off for the third time after you gotten angry all over again. “It’s just for a while. We needed some time apart.”

“You two are dramatic! It’s the end of the world. Whatever bullcrap you’ve got going on, can’t you just suck it up?” You rolled your eyes and headed back into the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste straight into the sink before washing out your mouth with water. “I mean, I understand to a certain extent you don’t 'trust him.’ But you can’t say this entire situation is his fault. What was his reason for leaving out of the blue?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, personally not wanting to discuss the matter. But he found himself staring straight at you when you leaned ever so slightly out of the bathroom with your eyes narrowed on him. From the look on your face, you wanted the real answer, not some made up lie to keep you quiet. “He wouldn’t say, all right? He just wanted some time alone to figure a few things out.”

You quietly scoffed at his response as you stepped out of the bathroom with your hands holding all of your dirty clothes, now dressed in the usual attire of Dean’s shirt you stolen from his bag. You weren’t exactly happy with the answer, but it’d have to for tonight, it was far too late to call him at this time of hour. Tomorrow morning you would call him and set him straight. Sam wouldn’t be gone longer than two days, you would be sure of that. You seemed to get yourself a bit calmer from the thought as you settled yourself onto the bed. Crawling forward, you let out a sigh of happiness as you stretched out your legs and grabbed the remote, deciding on a few hours of muted TV so Dean could get some sleep. But before you could hit the ON button, you turned your head to look at the man when he took the remote from your hands.

You gave him a look when you became a little bit frustrated from what he’d done. If he wanted to piss you off, Dean was succeeding with flying colors. But you could feel your mood starting to shift when you saw his lips stretch into a devious smirk as his eyebrows began to rise ever so slightly. You could feel yourself letting out what sounded like a schoolgirl giggle when your back hit the pillows and Dean’s lips upon yours, kissing you gently to apologize for what he let happen.

“I’m still mad at the both of you.” You said with a serious face, but it was hard to keep yourself focused on the topic as your eyes drifted to Dean’s lips. your mind drifting off to other activities you would like to do. It had been such a long time since you and Dean acted like a couple, you suddenly craved a night of normality. You bit the inside of your cheek from what you were about to say. “But I guess it might be for the best. Just for a little while.”

“Right.” Dean agreed with you, nodding his head. “It’s just for a little while.”

You let out a quiet sigh as you patted him on the chest, the exact spot where his anti-posession tattoo laid underneath his black shirt. You decided to be selfish for one night and forget about the younger Winchester, about everything that had been happening over the past several days, thinking it was going to be all right. Closing your eyes, you melted into the embrace of the man you loved as you felt his fingers brush across the buttons of the shirt. Everything is going to be all right, you thought to yourself at that moment, and silently prayed you weren’t going to be wrong in the most of disastrous of ways.


	3. Free to be You and Me.

A trail of clothes lead from the motel room door to the bed where you had been spending for the past half an hour. Your jeans laid abandoned on the floor along with Dean’s work boots to keep them company. His navy blue jacket that was stained with a bit of the vampire’s blood he beheaded from your last hunt, and complained the entire ride back of needing it to be cleaned, wasn’t a lost thought as it remained draped over a chair. All Dean could think about was enjoying this moment with you, and getting you undressed. You felt a shiver run down your spine when you felt his calloused and rough hands slowly draw his grip around your hips away as they slowly glided down your thighs, enjoying the feeling of smooth skin against his own. You let out a gasp in surprise before finding yourself smiling against Dean’s lips when you felt him grip your ass, pushing you closer for another kiss.

You and Dean had gotten back from a hunt almost an hour ago with the plan of just calling it a night. But one thing lead to another, sleep ending up becoming the last thing on your mind with the adrenaline pumping itself through your veins. Dean didn’t waste a single second when you stepped into the room, both of you fumbled quick as you could of ripping off each other’s clothes until you were left in a tank top you were wearing underneath a flannel shirt, with missing buttons after Dean got ahold of it, and your favorite undergarments. Dean abandoned his green button up shirt and shimmied out of his faded blue jeans after years of washes. Now he laid underneath you in his boxers and a black shirt, which you were desperate to get off of him.

You could hear Dean’s music playing in the background from the music player that you gotten him back in January when you decided it was time to update him to the twenty first century for this thirtieth birthday. All though he would never abandon his most cherished cassette tapes hidden underneath the passenger side seat of the Impala, you made it a bit easier to get himself lost in the music, and fuss when you complained about changing the song in more than just the driver’s side seat. But you couldn’t find a single fault when Warrant’s Cherry Pie came on full blast, Dean’s lips stretched into a smirk as you sat yourself into a sitting position from his waist. 

“We forgot to lock the door  
In walks her daddy  
Standin’ six foot four  
He said you aint’ gonna swing  
With my daughter no more.”

Your hands reached down to grip the edges of your tank top to start taking it off, and while Dean was enjoying every second of this, he found himself looking away for just a second when he noticed something reflect in the mirror right across from the bed. He leaned slightly over as his eyes wandered over to the front of the room, presuming his mind was just playing tricks on him. But wasn’t the case at all, for there’s a very familiar man standing in front of the bed.

“Cas?!” Dean yells on the top of his lungs in absolute shock. He quickly shoved you off of him and pushed you to the bed, he grabbed part of the motel sheets and tried to wrap them around your body, trying his hardest to pretend an angel hadn’t caught them in such a vulnerable state. You feel yourself blushing the deepest shade of red a human could produce when you realize what was going on and what he almost had seen happen. Cas stood there with the most calm look on his face, with just a tad confusion of what the fuss was all about. “Dude, don’t do that!”

Cas greeted the both of you with a nod, “Hello Dean, Y/N.”

You pushed yourself into a sitting position and let out a frustrated sigh, knowing the peaceful night in you had planned out was ruined. You leaned forward and turned off the music, letting the room fall into silence for a moment. Kicking a foot out of the covers to get dret dressed, you stopped yourself when you realized your pants were near the front door, where Cas was. In order to keep this situation from being less awkward, you remained as you were.

“Hey, Cas?” You asked him, making the angel turn his attention to you. You twirled your finger around in the air and gave him a smile. A second later he seemed to have gotten the hint you were trying to make, he awkwardly turned to face the corner, giving you and Dean a moment of privacy. “Thanks, bud.”

You got yourself out of bed and quickly scrambled to get your jeans off from the floor. You dressed yourself once more and slipped on another shirt buried in your bag after the one Dean had ruined laid too damaged for possible repair. Dean finished himself up by slipping on his green button up from the ground and began rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. “How’d you find us?” Dean asked, his hand subconsciously rubbing his stomach to feel the bones of his ribcage. “I thought we were flying below the angel radar.”

“You are. Bobby told me where you were.” Cas answered. You let out a scoff and sat yourself back down on the bed. Cas fell silent for a moment as he began to observe the room, seeming to notice there was something off here, for there was one person missing. “Where’s Sam?”

You wondered the same question yourself. The younger Winchester disappeared the same day after he announced the hunting lifestyle was too much for him in the wake of what happened. It was the only answer you had gotten out of Dean after asking him at least fifty times in the week since his brother’s strange departure. Three weeks later, you stopped the nagging him, but you remained persistent at leaving Sam messages and emails, not quitting until you got a reply to know that he was okay.

While the constant worry of his whereabouts lingered in the back of your mind, you found yourself slipping into the routine of hunting once more. You and Dean remained You and Dean worked together on hunts like nothing was wrong. Sure you had managed to wrap up at least five different hunts without Sam’s help, it wasn’t easy. There was the lack of another brain to help with research, and another pair of skilled hands when the hunt went wrong on the slim chances it did.

“Me and Y/N decided to take that romantic honeymoon we’ve always wanted. Sam decided to take a separate vacation from us for a while.” Dean said, explaining the situation with a tasteless joke to add some lightheartedness to the situation. He fixed the collar of his shirt and turned around to face Cas, curious for why he was here. “So, did you find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back, please?”

“No, I haven’t found Him. That’s why I’m here.” Cas said. “I need your help.”

“With what—a God hunt?” Dean asked, taking a presumption of where this conversation was going. “I’m not interested.”

“It’s not God. It’s someone else.” Cas answered. You pushed yourself up to your feet and raised your brow, asking him who. “It’s an archangel. The one who killed me. His name is Raphael.”

You fell silent when you found yourself becoming interested to see where this had to go, Dean, meanwhile, decided to crack a witty joke after hearing the name. “You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but Cas didn’t seem to understand the reference when he continued on with the conversation. “I’ve heard whispers that he’s walking the earth. This is a rare opportunity.”

“For what, revenge?” You asked with a bit of of hesitance. “Word of advice, I wouldn’t even try. You might get what you want in the scheme of things, but the consequences are totally a bitch. Trust me, I think Dean and I would know.”

“No. Information.” Cas corrected you. 

Dean scoffed at the angel’s lousy sounding plan as he shook his head, “So, what—you think if you find this dude, he’s just gonna spill God’s address?”

“Yes.” The angel said with seriousness. “Because we are gonna trap him and interrogate him.”

“You’re serious about this?” Dean asked, Cas nodded his head a moment later. You glanced away from the angel and looked over at the hunter, from the look on your face, you seemed rather curious to see where this could go. “So, what—are we the three musketeers again, is that it? Are we just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?” The angel stared at Dean with a furrowing brow, seeming to, yet again, not understand the humor from the supposed joke he was trying to make. Dean rolled his eyes once more in frustration. “Give me one good reason why Y/N and I should do this.”

“Because you’re Michael’s vessel, and no angel will dare harm you.”

“Oh, so now I’m your bullet shield?”

"I need your help, because you and Y/N are the only two who will help me.” Cas tried again, but this time, you could hear the pleading in his voice from the resort he was put into. Your expression softened as you tilted your head to the side, one of the few signs that you were beginning to fall for this little pity party the angel was trying to show. Dean tried his hardest to disagree with the plan, he wanted to stay away, far away from any angel business. “Please.”

Dean tried to keep his guard up for a few seconds longer, somehow hoping he could get himself out of this mess before it started. But you glanced over at him, and by the narrowing of your eyes, he knew there wasn’t a chance you would let him get out of this one. Cas had done a lot of things for you, the least either one of you could do was return the favor. “All right. Fine.” Dean agreed, knowing well enough he was outnumbered in this argument. “Where is he?”

“Maine.” Cas answered. He reached up both of his arms, “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Dean backed away before Cas could press his two fingers against his forehead. You furrowed your brow in concern and asked him what was wrong. But his answer made you regret ever asking in the first place. “Last time I got zapped someplace, I didn’t poop for a week. We’re driving.”

You shook your head from the information that you could have gone without hearing from the man for your entire life. You loved the man to death, but you had your questionable moments. “And the mood is officially gone.” You muttered underneath your breath.

\+ + +

Six hours later, a new motel, along with a change of clothing, you and Dean arrived at the police station in the late morning with Cas sitting in the backseat. You found this situation a little strange to have an angel sitting where you normally would, but Dean said it would be safer if he acted like a human, popping out into thin air wasn’t exactly a good idea. The Impala was parked safely against the curb before you got yourself out of the passenger’s side, your heels hitting the empty street as your eyes wandered to the police station that was just over the way. You tugged at your skirt and made the necessary fixes to your outfit like you normally did, Cas gotten out himself and slammed the door shut, Dean glared at him from how rough he was with Baby.

“We’re here why?” Dean asked, finding it rather odd to be starting the search off here.

“A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel.” Cas explained as he circled around the car to where Dean was standing.

“And he still has eyes?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask. Cas didn’t answer, you presumed the conversation would be better if you moved onto more important questions. “All right, what’s the plan?”

“We tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord. Then the officer will tell us where the angel is.” Cas explained with the utmost serious expression. Yet, despite the plan he must have thought was brilliant, you found yourself trying your hardest not to laugh as your lips stretched themselves into a smile, thinking this was some joke. Cas, however, didn’t find your reaction very appropriate. “Isn’t this how you and the Winchesters solve cases?”

“No, Cas. That’s how you get yourself a weekend stay at the mental ward in the hospital. You’re seriously gonna walk in there and tell him the truth?” You asked him, Cas nodded his head. You let out a very quiet sigh as you shook your head. Reaching a hand into your pocket, you pulled out a badge for him and inspected it for a moment before deeming it just right for him. It was an old one of Dean’s, but if the deputy looked pretty quick, it might be decent enough to pass. Cas asked why his plan wouldn’t work. “Because we’re humans. And when humans want something, really, really bad…” You reached out and opened up his suit jacket where you slipped the badge inside. But he couldn’t walk in there like a man coming home from a stressful day at work. You quickly did up the top button of his shirt and fixed his tie so it was neat. “We lie.”

Cas looked at you with a confused expression, “Why?”

“Because,” You stepped back to take a quick inspection of him to make sure he looked decent enough. Before he could leave, you quickly buttoned up his jacket, thinking that was the final touch to make him look at least half decent. “That’s how you become president.”

Cas didn’t understand what you were trying to say, but you didn’t let him think too long about the explanation of what you had mentioned. You lightly tugged on his arm and nodded your head to start walking in the station to get this started. The three of you headed inside, and after speaking to a friendly receptionist up front, you found the deputy speaking with another officer.

“Deputy Framingham? Hi,” You greeted the deputy with a friendly smile as you pulled out your badge for him to inspect it. Dean followed just seconds later, knowing the routine. “Grace Slick, FBI. These are my partners, Alonzo Mosely and Eddie Moscone.” When you gotten the first part of the undercover cop done, you tucked the badge away and casually glanced over at Cas, wondering how he was doing. He just stood there, staring straight ahead at the officer, seeming not to have a clue of what to do. You cleared your throat and gave the officer a smile. “Also FBI.”

Cas finally understood what the badge was for. You watched as he slipped a hand inside his jacket pocket, pulling out the fake badge you had given him, he flipped open the leather pouch, letting the officer examine the ID. But he wasn’t exactly holding it right when you noticed it was upside down. You closed your eyes for a split second in embarrassment as Dean reached out a hand to quickly rip the badge of the angel’s hand before placing it back in properly.

“He’s, uh, he’s new.” Dean whispered to the officer when he noticed the strange stares. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Yeah. Sure. Talk here, though.” Deputy Framingham said, pointing a finger to his right ear as he walked to his office with the three of you following behind. “Hearing’s all blown to hell in this one.”

“That happened recently?” You asked, taking one of the seats right across from his desk.

“Yeah—the gas-station thing.” He said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” Dean answered, cautiously clearing his throat to not appear caught off guard. He stood in the middle after Cas took the only available seat next to you. “Do you mind just, uh, running us through what happened?”

“Well, call came in—disturbance out at the Pump ‘n’ Go on route four.” The deputy said. You asked him what kind of situation it had ended up being for him. “Would not have believed it my eyes if I hadn’t seen it myself. We’re talking a riot—full-scale. Thirty, forty people. In all-out, kill-or-be-killed combat.“

"Any idea what set them off?” You asked the officer.

“It’s angels and demons, probably.” Cas answered before the deputy could. You could feel your gaze lingering away from Framingham and to the angel sitting right next to you from the response you warned him about giving. “They’re skirmishing all over the globe.”

“Come again?” Deputy Framingham asked. “What did he say?”

“Demons.”

“Nothing.”

You tried to brush off the situation as nothing, hoping a smile to the deputy would make him forget the situation all together, but Cas was persistent. Your fingers curled into a loose fist when he spoke right in sync as you did. You cautiously looked at him in the eye to give him a warning.

“Nothing.”

“Demons.”

“Demons, you know—drink, adultery. We all have our demons, Walt. Right?” You managed to roll this situation into one that you could use, hoping the deputy couldn’t look at Cas with even more of a confused face. Framingham moved his gaze over to you, but his expression seemed to have stayed. “Anyway, what happened next?”

“Freakin’ explosion, that’s what. They said it was one of those underground gas tanks, but, uh, I don’t think so.” Deputy Framingham said, shaking his head. You gave him a curious look, wondering why he would think that. “It wasn’t your usual fireball. It was, um…”

“Pure white.” Cas said, finishing the thought for the man.

“Yeah.” The deputy agreed. You looked over at Cas from his answer that could have gone horribly wrong, but you ended up rolling your eyes from his deadpan expression, for the angel didn’t seem to understand the frustration you were feeling. “Gas station was leveled. Everyone was… it was just horrible. Then I see this one guy, kneeling there, real focused-like. Not a damn scratch on him.”

“You know him?” Dean asked.

Deputy Framingham nodded, “Donnie Finnerman—mechanic there.”

"And let me guess,” Dean decided to try and sum up this situation himself before Cas could. “He just, uh…vanished into thin air?”

“Uh, no, Kolchak.” The deputy said. “He’s down at St. Pete’s.”

Cas turned to look at you after hearing the response, “St. Pete’s.”

You forced yourself to give the angel a smile of appreciation to stop suspecions from being raised by the deputy. You slowly cranked your neck upwards to make eye contact with the man. Both shared the same expression as you shook your head. You sure missed Sam in situations like this.

\+ + +

The three of you headed over to St. Pete’s to see if you could find this Donnie Finnerman and have a talk about what he had witnessed himself at the massacre. All though it was told that he had no physical wounds, the man you saw sitting in the wheelchair inside the hospital room was not what you were expecting. You furrowed your brow slightly when you examined his almost lifeless stare as he looked out the window. The poor man was almost a shell of his old self.

“I take it that’s not Raphael anymore.” Dean remarked.

“Just an empty vessel.” Cas explained to the both of you.

“So,” Dean examined the man for a few moments when a question lingered in the back of his mind. He hadn’t thought much about it, not until he seen what might come if he said yes. “Is this what I’m looking at when Michael jumps my bones?”

“No, not all.” Cas said, almost making you believe for a split second his answer was reassuring, but he wasn’t finished speaking. “Michael is much more powerful. It’ll be far worse for you.”

You could tell Dean was unsettled from the honest response that he wasn’t expecting. His gaze wandered away from the angel and back to the man sitting in the hospital room, he stared at the scene for a moment longer before he headed down the hallway, walking until he out of sight. You let out a quiet sigh as you looked over at Cas, shaking your head from what he accidentally had done without realization. It seemed the angel needed a better lesson about how lying can benefit people in more ways than just one. Sometimes knowing about a dilemma was far worse than hearing nothing at all, even if it was inevitable.

\+ + +

You glanced around at the abandoned house Cas had told you to meet him at midnight sharp, for whatever reason that might be. The place was far from town, a once quiet little farm house from what you could presume, was now overtaken with weeds and thrown to the natural elements to wear and tear. You managed to find a table and chair that were salvageable enough to use. Dean kept himself occupied by brushing up on some reading from his father’s journal, curious to see if he could find any useful information for what the three of you were about to do. Cas, very briefly, explained what needed to be done in order to make this work just right before he just disappeared yet again, like he always did. You let out a quiet sigh and looked down at your phone to see the time. One minute to midnight, and no missed calls from anyone.

Shoving the phone back into your pocket, you looked up when you heard the familiar rustling of feathers and saw Cas standing just across the room. “Finally. Where have you been?”

“Jerusalem.” Cas answered for you.

“Oh.” Dean replied with a sarcastic eagerness. “How was it?”

Cas walked over to the table you were sitting at and set down what appeared to be a clay pot, and from the sounds of the sloshing around, there was some sort of liquid inside. “Aird.”

“What is that?” You asked, pointing a finger at the pot.

“It’s oil.” Cas explained as he took a seat across from you. “ It’s very special and very rare.”

“Okay, are we gonna trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?” Dean asked, Cas answered with a no. “So, this ritual of yours, when’s it got to go down?”

“Sunrise.”

This conversation was interesting as watching paint dry. You looked around the room, wondering what the three of you were going to do to pass the time, or what the risks you were going to take in order to do this. “Tell me something—you keep saying we’re gonna trap this guy,” You said, your eyes wandering over to Cas, “But isn’t that kind of like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?”

“No.” Cas said. “It’s harder.”

“How reassuring.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Do we have any chances of surviving this?”

Cas shook his head, “You two do.”

“So, odds are, you’re a dead man tomorrow?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask, knowing the last time the two were in a room together, Cas got blown to smithereens. The angel nodded his head to answer the hunter’s question. “Well, last night on earth. What are your plans?”

“I just thought I’d set here quietly.” Cas said, seeming rather too casual about what might happen.

You let out a quiet laugh, thinking for a moment the angel had learned some humor, but from the nonchalant expression that never left his face, you slowly grew quieter when you realized he was serious. “Dude. Come on. Anything? Hmm? Booze, women?” Dean asked, hounding the man for something to do. If anyone in the world knew how to have a good time, it was Dean Winchester himself. You looked over at Cas to see him rubbing the back of his neck before he dropped his gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact. You furrowed your brow, wondering what was making him so nervous. It took a second before you realized what it was. “You have been with a woman before, right? Or an angel at least?”

“Dean,” You muttered the hunter’s name with a hiss. “Don’t be so…personal.”

Dean, of course, never liked to do what he was told, for the thought that struck him as absurd kept his mouth running as he hounded the angel with too personal of questions. “You mean to tell me you’ve never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?”

“Look, I’ve never had the occasion, okay?” Cas answered the hunter, hoping the questions about what he didn’t do in his free time would stop and the attention would be drawn away from him after it was making him rather uncomfortable.

The older Winchester finally grew quiet, seeming that it was taking him a moment to process the information. You hoped yourself that this conversation would dwindle away to something else, but that wasn’t Dean’s style. He headed over to the chair you were occupying so he could take his jacket from the back of his chair before putting it on. "Let me tell you something. There are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay.”

"What’s the other one, Casanova?” You asked with an arched brow.

“Two, Cas is not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch.” Dean said. “Let’s go.”

You watched as the man walked to the front door, having every intent to get this party started. You stayed back for a moment and looked over at the angel, who was beginning to look like a deer in headlights. He looked over at you, almost unsure of what he should do. You shrugged your shoulders, ever so slightly curious to see where the night would take you.

\+ + +

You thought the night would take you to a bar, not a brothel. For a second you wondered if this was even legal. The place was crawling with men and scantily clad women, working their way for the paycheck as they giggled and twirled their fingers, molding their customers exactly how they wanted them. You had nothing against how people made their money, looking down at someone who sold themselves for money was almost comical for someone like you—who stole people’s identity and hustled drunks at bars. What you were having a problem with was how the poor angel that sat across from your right in the black leather booth was reacting. He stared at the scenery with absolute terror, and it wasn’t because of the dim fluorescent lighting or the deep hues of purple and black color scheme. You glanced over at Dean, who seemed like he was in Heaven from what he was surrounded with

“Hey,” Dean seemed to have found himself being pulled out of his trance long enough to see how Cas was doing. The angel sat across from him with widening eyes and tensing facial features, almost making it appear he was close to having a panic attack. “Relax, man.”

“This is a den of iniquity.” Cas whispered. “I should not be here.”

“Dude, you full-on rebelled against Heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks.” Dean said, trying to sweet talk the angel into doing something that was obviously making him uncomfortable. You kept yourself quiet as you traced the rim of the glass full of the alcoholic beverage you didn’t even really want, but Dean insisted upon you having. Dean turned his head ever so slightly to see a potential lady come into his view, and from the looks of it, her eyes were targeted on Cas. “Showtime.”

A woman, who looked to be no younger than the age of twenty, came strolling over with a seductive grin across her lips when she noticed the free man up for grabs. She wore the innocent shades of white with a babydoll nighty, you shook your head in discomfort and looked away from the train wreck that was about to unfold. “Hi.” She greeted the angel with a flirty and friendly tone. “What’s your name?”

The angel fell dead silent, his gaze lingered away from the woman, and if you could tell from the dim lighting, he was actually blushing. You were about to open your mouth to excuse the poor man from making the worst decision of his life, but Dean jumped to the rescue. “Cas!” He shouted the angel’s name, making the poor fellow nearly jump out of his skin from surprise. “His name is Cas. And what’s

name, sweetheart?”

“Chasity.” She answered, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder and lowering her cleavage ever so slightly for the man to take a look. Cas quickly did the opposite and averted his gaze away when he got a sliver of courage to try and make eye contact with her.

“Chasity? Wow. Is that kismet or what, Buddy?” Dean said with a light hearted grin. You wanted to gag yourself from how tacky the name was as you looked over at Cas, wondering how he was still handling the pressure being throw on him without a choice. Your eyebrows shot up when you saw the angel reach for his beer and started chugging like there was no tomorrow. “Well, he likes you, and you like him, so…dayenu.”

The woman named Chasity leaned down to grab Cas by his hand and started leading him to the back where only clients were allowed. Dean reached for his glass to take another sip of his beer and looked over at you, thinking you would be sharing the same amused expression as he, but you stared at him, slowly shaking your head in disapproval. Dean slowly looked away, and only then did he realize that he was throwing Cas to the wolves—without any money.

Dean got up from his seat and quickly shoved a hand inside his jacket, pulling out a small wad of twenties and stopped the two for just a moment. He handed the money to Cas, who stared at him with the continuous look of panic, but with the money now resting in his hand, a small twinge of confusion crossed by. “Oh, hey. Listen. Take this. If she asks for a credit card, no. Now, just stick to the basics okay? Do not order off the menu.” Dean instructed to the man, for he’s done this far too many times for your personal comfort to think about. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” Cas didn’t listen, he just stood there with the same terrified expression, unsure of he wanted to do this. “Don’t make me push you.”

Cas did he was told, holding the money tight in his grip, you watched as he headed to the back of the curtain with Chasity, disappearing from your sight just a moment later. You occupied yourself by taking slow sips of your drink, and ignoring every chance you could to avoid eye contact with Dean when he sat back down with you. A moment of silence passed between the both of you, making you wonder why you agreed to even come here in the first place. You were against this plan all together, but when Dean sunk his teeth into an idea, it was hard to stray him from the plan. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You mumbled as you reached for your glass to take one final sip. “Be back in a few.”

You slipped yourself out of the booth and found your way to the back without help. You were gone for a few minutes, and during your time away, you decided this little plan was stupid, after all. Cas shouldn’t have been pressured to do something that he clearly was uncomfortable with, and from what you could tell, he was far too naive to lose his innocence in a brothel. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing your life has come to a very strange point. Heading back to the booth where you left Dean, you made your way through the workers and their clients, thinking you would find the man sitting ever so quietly. But you found yourself stopping dead in your tracks when you saw him at the bar, talking to a woman, and from the looks of her outfit, she was trying to make a move.

You walked over to the bar with a calm demeanor, taking the presumption she was just working like everyone else here, but that didn’t help explain what Dean was doing. You headed over and took a free spot next to Dean, while you reached out an arm to hold his arm, you squeezed hard as you could, inflicting pain from how his smile faltered. “Could you excuse us for a second, Crystal?” Dean asked the young woman as he flashed her a toothy smile. She nodded her head and grabbed her drink, you watched as she walked off to the other side of the room, tending to the tables. You slowly drew your gaze over to the man, and from the expression settling on your face, he knew you weren’t exactly happy. “Y/N, it’s not what you think. Her and I were talking while you were gone, and get this—she does couples. ”

“So what—oh. No, no, way.” You bitterly chuckled to yourself, shaking your head from the proposition Dean was trying to throw your way. He was a lot of things, and while you loved him with every fiber of your being, there was some things that would just remain a little fantasy in his head. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed with you on that point, “But I’m yours.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned yourself against the bar, deciding that Dean had enough fun for one night. But as you opened your mouth to tell him it was time to wrap up the night, what came out next was a loud pitched scream, coming from behind the curtain. You looked over at Dean for a moment when a streak of worry came over you. Both of you headed over and pushed back the purple velvet curtain to see what the commotion was about. A long hallway of open doors with women and their clients stood frozen to stare at the scene which was unfolding. You looked straight ahead to see Chasity standing in the middle of the way with her back turned to you, and with Cas standing in the doorway of her room, with a disheveled appearance. But from how she was reacting, it seemed neither of them were satisfied customers.

“Get out of my face! No! Leave me alone!” Chastity screamed on the top of her lungs, throwing her heels at the angel to try and inflict pain upon him. “Bastard! Screw you, jerk! I’ll kill you!” You stood there with a baffled look on your face, wondering what had happened to make her this mad. Chasity huffed out a breath and turned around in her spot, deciding she needed a drink after the client from Hell. You stepped back when you crossed paths with her, she leaned forward at Dean to yell a slur of profanities at him. “Screw you, too! God!”

“What the hell did you do?” You asked the angel, walking forward to figure out what went wrong.

“I don’t know. I just looked at her in the eyes and told her it wasn’t her fault that her father, Gene, ran off.” Cas admitted, shrugging his shoulders. You shook your head as you covered your face with your hands, knowing how wrong it was, despite that being personal information that nobody would know except for the woman. Talking about family issues never made for a good pastime, either. “It was because he hated his job at the post office.”

“Oh, no, man.” Dean said, chuckling to himself at the mishap. Cas looked at the man, wondering what he had done wrong. “This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It’s the natural order.”

While Dean found himself amused enough to let out a laugh, you looked over your shoulder to see the fun was about to cut short. You patted Dean on the shoulder when you noticed two men heading your way, and from the looks of it, they weren’t exactly happy from the story Chastity from have told them. “We should go.” You said. You looked forward to see there was an exit, a perfect way to make an escape before being thrown out. “Come on.”

You pushed the two men forward to the exit and began walking fast as you could, trying your hardest to make a getaway before being caught. The three of you headed down the staircase, all while you cautiously looked over your shoulder, wondering if the bouncers from upstairs would catch up. You managed to get out of the place without anymore of a hassle, you pushed open the door to the alleyway and stepped out into the cold night air. While you turned around with an annoyed expression on your face, Dean seemed to have an opposite reaction, for he was laughing, something you hadn’t seen him do in such a long time.

“What’s so funny?” Cas asked, unsure of what was so amusing for the man.

“Oh, nothing.” Dean said. He swung up an arm and rested it against Cas’ shoulder, leading him to the parked Impala just a few feet away. “It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard. Oh, it’s been more than a long time. Years.”

You couldn’t help yourself but allow the smallest smile to start spreading across your lips, happy to see Dean having a bit of fun, after everything that was going down. You started heading for the Impala yourself, but before you could make it very far, you heard the sound of your phone ringing, making you wonder who was calling you at this time of night. You stopped for a moment to fish out your phone and looked at the home screen to see the I.D., you had to look twice when you saw a familiar name pop up on screen. Before you could let it go to voicemail, you excused yourself, answering the phone before it could make its third ring.

“Sammy,” You greeted the younger Winchester with a friendly enough of a tone, relief flooding into your system after hearing from him after weeks of silence. “It’s about damn time.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Sam apologized, but it didn’t seem right. He sounded distant, almost like he was regretting this phone call, as if it was a big mistake. “I thought you might send a rescue team if I didn’t reply to your million missed calls.”

“Can you blame me? You vanished without a trace, Dean and I are worried about you.” You said, making a little white lie. You doubt for a moment that Dean was truly concerned about his brother’s whereabouts. There was something nonchalant about the older Winchester’s behavior when he broke the news to you, almost as if he was relieved to have a break from him. “Where are you?”

“Garber, Oklahoma.” Sam answered.

You looked over your shoulder when you heard Dean calling out your name, he stared at you with a look of frustration when he stood outside the Impala with the keys in his hand, you pointed a finger at him, wanting him to give you a minute. “We’re in the middle of something right now with Cas. But if all goes well, maybe we could meet up again—”

“Y/N, that’s not why I’m calling.” Sam cut you off, shooting down your only chance to bring the family back together. You fell silent, wondering what he was going to say, but it wasn’t what you were expecting, or wanting to hear. While it was painful for him to say the words, it had to be done. “You need to stop calling me, okay? I’m not coming back anytime soon. Just…leave me alone. And stop trying to call me. Please.”

You could feel your free hand slowly retract itself into a fist, bottling up all the anger that you felt from what he had said, trying your hardest not to react with the words that sat at the tip of your tongue. But that would only make things worse. Instead, you did what you thought was best for the situation, you hung up on him. You let out a frustrated breath, wondering what had crawled up his ass to make him so distant from you. You shoved your phone into your pocket once more and headed to the car, ignoring the stares from Cas as Dean seemed to have found a different mood, wondering what had happened between you and his brother. His only answer was you slamming the passenger side door, not saying a single word to anyone.

\+ + +

You peeked out of the blinds from the quiet hospital room on the very early morning. You scanned the hallway to see that it was empty, besides the lonesome nurse traveling down with a few clipboards to her side as her only company. You watched as she turned the corner and disappeared from sight, Dean shut the door when you gave him the signal as you reached for the wand and began turning it around, closing the blinds, allowing complete privacy from the very strange ritual that you were about to do.The three of you were occupying the room of Donnie Finnerman, a man who was the last kno vessel to the infamous archangel Raphael. He was once a healthy man who worked full time as a mechanic, but after saying yes for what he presumed to be for the greater good, the man remained now in a complete vegetable state, confined into a wheelchair as he stared off into space,the way doctors presumed he would live out the rest of his days. You felt sympathetic for him, the man didn’t know what he was in after giving consent. You thought demons were soulless monsters, but it seemed angels didn’t have a heart of gold, either.

Cas occupied himself by grabbing the pot from the table he previously set it down after arriving and began walking forward to the man, tracing his steps into a circle as he began pouring the oil all over the floor. As he walked, the angel explained what made this trap special. “When the oil burns, no angel can touch or pass through the flames, or he dies.”

“Okay. So we trap him in a steel cage of holy fire. But, uh, one question,” Dean said, bringing up an interesting point you wondered yourself. “How the hell do we get him here?”

“There’s–well, almost an open phone line, between a vessel and his angel. One just has to know how to dial.” Cas explained to the both of you. He set down the clay pot to the table and walked over to the man, where he then crouched down to his level. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion, but it began to make sense of what he was doing when he began chanting something in a foreign language you couldn’t understand, enochian, if you were correct. “I’m here, Raphael. Come and get me, you little bastard.”

Cas ended the chant with a small threat, showing the archangel he wasn’t afraid to see him again, even after what was done to him. He pushed himself into a standing position and walked over to you and Dean. “Just out of curiosity,” You said, wondering how much longer this was going to take until this would begin. “the average customer wait time to speak to an archangel is…?”

“Be ready.” Cas warned you.

The angel grabbed the matchbook from his trench coat pocket and pulled out a match. Striking the tip against the box, a small flame ignited, Cas threw it to the ground where he poured the oil, and not a second later, you watched as a ring of fire danced around the floor. You let out a quiet breath of reassurance as you crossed your arms over your chest, reassuring yourself that this was going to go smooth, and you weren’t going to have to try and pick off fragments of skin or molars of Cas’ vessel from your hair when Raphael decided to make his appearance.

\+ + +

“Well, that’s a day I’ll never get back.”

You rubbed your eyes from the passenger side of the Impala, trying your hardest not to fall asleep from the wasted hours spent standing around the hospital room. Darkness had fallen once more after you decided to call it quits when the plan Cas had come up with failed miserably. The three of you headed back to the house with the intent of grabbing your stuff and leaving, knowing it was pretty obvious Raphael didn’t appear when called for. You got out of the car when it finally stopped and made your way for the front door first, not thinking much of it when you opened it up and took a step to head inside, but you stopped in your tracks when Cas jumped in front of you.

“Y/N, wait.” Cas said, you gave him an annoyed glare for what he’d done.

Your attention was turned away from the angel when you looked ahead, knowing just a moment later what his warming was about. It seemed that you had a guest, and he wanted to make his appearance well known. The entire first floor of the house erupted with sparks when every single lightbulb exploded, sending fragments of glass flying into the air, making you flinch in surprise, but Cas stared straight on, his lips curling into the smallest of a smile, knowing his plan had worked.

“Castiel.”

“Raphael.”

“I mean, I thought you were supposed to be impressive.” Dean followed behind you and Cas when you began walking forward to the archangel, but still keeping a safe distance away. “All you do is black out the room?”

“And the eastern seaboard.” Raphael replied. Not a second later, a crash of thunder and strike of lighting came out of nowhere, you looked over your shoulder to see there was a storm brewing outside. You nervously swallowed as you slowly drew your gaze back to him. “It is a testament to my unending mercy that I don’t smite you here and now.”

“Or maybe you’re full of crap.” Dean said, deciding to push his luck to see how far he could go before seeing fatal consequences. Raphael seemed to be ever so slightly amused, he arched his vessel’s brow. “Maybe you’re afraid that God will bring Cas back to life again and smite

, you candy-ass skirt. By the way–Hi. I’m Dean.”

“I know who you are. And this pathetic excuse of a human.” Raphael said, your lips stretched into a frown when you noticed his gaze drifted your way. It seemed that he wasn’t too concerned on making the best first impression. “And now, thanks to Castiel, I know where you are.”

“You won’t kill him. You sons of bitches you need him.” You said. A bolt of lightening came from behind, enginititng the room into a brightness for just a moment. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Raphael agreed to a certain length of what you said, “But I will take him to Michael.”

“Well, that wounds terrifying. It does. But, uh, I hate to tell you,” Dean spoke up, pretending to act casual about what was happening. You watched from the corner of your eye as the man began walking to the cooler right across the room. He bent down and pushed open the lid, snatching a beer to enjoy when he twisted off the top and threw it down to the ground, discarding it without a care. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer and Y/N losing her lungs.” Raphael said. Dean stopping sipping on his beer and turned back around in his spot, facing the archangel with a casual stare, pretending the times you and him faced were hilarious. “Yes, well…he doesn’t have anything close to my imagination.”

“Oh, yeah? I spent forty years in Hell and died too many times to remember. Try me.” You weren’t afraid of what kind of threat the angel dangled over your head. Your hand slipped into your back pocket, keeping your eye contact straight on as Raphael began to make the smallest steps forward to you, as if he was waiting for his chance to call your bluff. Dean anxiously looked over at Cas, wondering if this was going to work without this plan backfiring right in his face. “I bet you didn’t imagine one thing.”

“What?” Raphael asked you with the least bit of interest.

"We knew you were coming,” You said with a growing smirk. “You stupid son of a bitch.”

With the simple flick of your thumb, you worked the lighter fast enough to throw it towards the ground, exactly on the spot where Cas had poured the oil for a second plan, just in case the first one didn’t exactly worked. You stepped back in caution as another ring of holy fire trapped Raphael in his spot, rendering him powerless. Dean wandered over to where you stood after he took notice of the nasty glare settling on the archangel’s face from what had been done.

“Hey, don’t look at me.” Dean said, trying to defend himself by shifting the blame to Cas. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, momentarily caught off guard for how the Winchester was handling this. “It was his idea.”

Cas asked the important question, the one which was why all of you were here. “Where is He?”

“God Didn’t you hear? He’s dead, Castiel. Dead.” Raphael replied. None of you believed the information the archangel was saying, for there had to be more than what he was leading with, and it seemed he could sense your hesitance. “There’s no other explanation. He’s gone for good.”

“You’re lying.” Cas said.

“Am I? Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better?” Raphael questioned the other angel. “You think God would have let any of that happen if he were alive?”

You and the angel took a moment to ponder on what Raphael had said. There had been countless tragedies spanning the decades you learned in history class, not to mention the things you’ve seen just hunting. But Dean, being the man that he was, decided to make this conversation a little bit lighter by adding humor that was always timed perfectly wrong. “Oh, yeah? Well, then who invented the chinese basket trick?”

“Careful.” Raphael warned the young man. “That’s my father you’re talking about, boy.”

“Yeah, who would be so proud to know that his sons started the friggin’ apocalypse.“ Dean said, not giving an ounce of sympathy for what he was hearing.

"Who ran off and disappeared.” Raphael defend himself. “Who left no instructions and a world to run.

"So Daddy ran away and disappeared?” Dean asked, approaching the touchy subject with careless remarks after seeing a connection from yesterday’s events. “He didn’t happen to work for the post office, did he?”

Raphael wasn’t the least bit amused from the hunter’s humor he was quickly growing tired of with each passing second. “This is funny to you? You’re living in a Godless universe.”

“And? What–you and the other kids just decide to throw an apocalypse while he’s gone?” Dean questioned the archangel with a bit of bite to his tone.

“We’re tired. We just want it to be over. We just want…” Raphael wanted what both sides wanted, a way out to face the problems of humanity. “Paradise.”

“So, what–God does and makes you the boss, and you think you can do whatever you want?” You found yourself asking a question, knowing there was so much at stake. “There’s billions of people here you’re going to kill because you’re too much of a coward to face responsibility. And you’re okay with that?”

"Yes.” Raphael’s answer was what you should have expected. “And whatever we want, we get.”

Before you realized what was happening, you heard a loud crashing sound, all before you were bending down to shield yourself from the shards of broken glass and wood that were aimed to your backside after Raphael retaliated, by breaking the window. The downpour from outside quickly came in, soaking you to the bone as the thunder continued on and the wind blew even harder. “If God is dead, why have I returned?” Cas asked, using the last point you had against the archangel to get the honest truth you wanted to hear. “Who brought me back?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Lucifer raised you?” Raphael presumed, you could feel a terrible shiver run down your spine from the unwanted presumption. You knew the reaction wasn’t caused from your freezing cold and soaking wet clothes. “Think about it. He needs all the rebellious angels he can find. You know it adds up.”

Cas thought about it for a moment you knew it could be a possibility. Lucifer was an archangel, all though you might not know the extent of his abilities, you knew well enough he was a powerful one. And he would do anything to get what he wanted. But the other angel wasn’t going to listen, he knew this lead was a dead end.

“Let’s go.” Cas said, nodding his head at you and Dean.

“Castiel.” The archangel called out the other angel’s name, making him stop in his tracks while he headed for the journey, making his escape while the three of you still could. “I’m warning you. Do not leave me here. I will find you.”

“Maybe one day.” Cas said, agreeing with the archangel on his threat. But he wasn’t afraid for what was to come, because in this very moment, he controlled all the power, and he wanted to make it known. “But today, you’re my little bitch.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let the smallest smile spread across your lips when you began following behind the angel to make your grand getaway, thinking you were leaving on a high note. Cas might not have gotten what he wanted, but he gained another, a little bit of revenge for what was done to him by Raphael. You made it just a few feet away from the door, but you stopped in your tracks when Dean spoke up, ruining that perfect moment. “What he said.” Dean found himself quickly realizing what he said was quite useless, and a little bit awkward. You shook your head and began heading out into the storm, leaving the archangel trapped, hopefully long enough to make an escape before he could keep the promises of unimaginable torture.

\+ + +

In the past few weeks since Sam made his unexplained departure, you sort of felt normal. You laid in the backseat of the Impala with your legs stretched out and your crumbled jacket, the one you snatched from the trunk, was used as a pillow while you tried drifting off to sleep. Everyone was silent, Dean in the driver’s seat and Cas in the passenger side, the only noise was the occasional drizzle of rain and the humming of the engine. Slowly, you closed your eyelids, embracing the sleep that was calling your name. It was a minute later you heard the silence be broke from Dean’s voice, and while his quiet tone didn’t bother you, it was the curiosity to find out what both men were talking about that kept you alert.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Dean asked out of concern, but the angel didn’t answer. He kept staring out the window and to the empty road ahead of them, sort of what Sam did when he was too upset to talk. “Look, I’ll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but, I do know a little something about missing fathers.”

“What do you mean?” Cas asked.

“I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said he was dead. But I knew, in my heart, that he was still alive.” Dean said, sharing a bit of information that he rarely shared with anyone in hopes it would help the angel gain some confidence after the failed interrogation. “Who cares what some ninja torture says, Cas? What do you believe?”

Cas delayed his answer, keeping a moment of silence between the both of them before admitting his true feelings. “I believe he’s out there.”

“Good.” Dean said. “Then go find him.”

The angel contemplated about taking up the offer to leave once more to continue his journey. But he felt something different in the air, a sense of strangeness kept Cas in the passenger’s side seat where Sam should have been. “What about you?”

“What about me? I don’t know.” Dean admitted. With a little more bit process to his emotions, the hunter changed his answer to a better one that felt right. "Honestly? I’m good. I can’t believe I’m saying that, but I am. I’m…I’m really good.”

“Even without your brother?” Cas asked, bringing up the dreaded question.

“Especially without my brother. I mean, I spent so much time worry about the son of a bitch. Not to mention the bomb he dropped on me after he left about Y/N. It’s better that he stays away. I’ve had more fun with you and Y/N in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had with Sam in years. And you’re not that much fun.” Dean said, finding himself rambling off into thought, not sure where the honesty stopped, and the lying began. "It’s funny. You know, I’ve been so chained to my family, pushing off what I really want for them. But now that it’s just Y/N and me…hell, I’m happy.”

Dean found himself smiling at the thought he had only once dreamed of when it came to sharing a life with you, the more logical one. He enjoyed the past few weeks of focusing on hunting and spending the quiet nights alone with you, with no worries of his little brother to disturb the moment. Yet the happiness could only last for so long, there were only so many lies one could tell themselves before they stopped believing. Dean turned his gaze away from the road to look at the passenger side, expecting to see Cas there, quietly listening like Sam always used to, but the seat was empty.

\+ + +

Clutching the motel sheets closer to your chest, you let out a frustrated sigh as you tossed around in the bed until you were resting on your left side, hoping to find the perfect spot on the mattress that would make sleep come a little faster. You had your eyes closed for all of five seconds before you opened them right up, only to be graced with an empty and dark room, with no chance of sleep to come. For once in these past few weeks you wanted to be by yourself, away from Dean and the constant reminder of what was going on out in the world, and the troubles happening right at home. You thought taking a hot shower and slipping into your favorite pajamas might help the restless mind of yours, but at three a.m., it seemed you were just getting started on deconstructing every little aspect of your life. The endless amount of questions about what you did wrong, what you could have done differently to change the outcome.

You decided to call it quits when you pushed off the comforter from your body and sat up normally in bed, fluffing the pillows just right for comfort. You crossed your legs and settled on the idea of watching something on TV for a few hours until you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep. You leaned over the bed and outstretched your arm, reaching for the remote, but your eyes drifted to your cell phone that was charging. For a moment you contemplated on trying to at least send Sam a text message, wondering what really made him leave, and why it was about you. Maybe you could go the extra mile and track the little brat down, shake the answer right out of him. You were sick and tired of people coddling you like a child. After all these years, all of the things you’d done and seen, people were afraid the truth might be too much for you to handle.

But the thought only remained as what it was, just a thought. You reached for the remote and flung yourself to the pillows, deciding your time would better spent by yourself. You reached up an arm to point the remote at the TV, with your finger on the power button, your gaze was pulled away from the glossy black screen when you heard a knock on the motel door. Furrowing your brow, you kept yourself quiet, wondering for a moment of who was at the door at this ungodly hour. You heard the stranger knock again, this time, louder and more urgent. You slipped out of bed and began making your way to the duffel bag you carelessly dropped to the ground, where you snatched a loaded gun you always kept loaded when you bunked alone. You walked to the door and waited just another moment, wondering if the person would go away on their own.

“Y/N?” You were caught off guard when the stranger spoke up after a moment’s silence, and how it sounded a lot like Sam’s voice. “Y/N, it’s me. Open up the door.”

You contemplated for a second, but before you did, you scurried over to your bag, switching out your gun for a flask and a silver knife, deciding you couldn’t be too cautious You twisted off the top and made your way back to the door, you unlocked the deadbolt and opened it up, but the chain only made it go just a few inches. The person standing outside looked like Sam; the man standing outside was tall from what you could remember, towering over you with the type of look that read of relief when you finally opened up the door. He was exactly the man you were just thinking about, but you still stared at him with a standoffish expression, knowing the last conversation you had was him telling you to cut off any sort of connection from him until further notice. But here he stood, with a warm smile, as if nothing was wrong.

“Mind letting me in, Y/N? I’m soaked from the rain.” Sam asked. His smile widened ever so slightly to see the dents in his cheeks to show off the dimples that gave him the boyish charm you always adored. You nodded your head and closed the door, only to undo the chain and widen the door, stepping out of the way so he could enter the motel room. You turned on the bedside table, allowing the room some light as you closed the door behind Sam.

You notice right away that Sam wasn’t lying about being wet, he looks like he was caught in the rain after making his way out from the car he stolen. He shook his head, trying to control his shaggy brown hair as he turned around in his spot to face you. “Damn, it’s really coming down out there. I—” Before he could finish his sentence, you make your move. You fling the holy water into his face, expecting a reaction out of him. But when all you see him do is spit out the water to the carpet, you don’t waste a second by cutting his forearm with the knife you were hiding behind your back. All he does is flinch and hiss out in pain, his skin doesn’t sizzle when you do any of the tests. He’s human as the last time you saw him almost a month ago. “What the hell, Y/N?”

“I could ask you the same thing, you idiot. After our little phone call, I have every single right to be afraid you’re some monster trying to kill me!” You hissed at him, anger suddenly crossing your mind. You managed to keep your level below a whisper, remembering there were people trying to sleep, including Dean. “You said you wanted your distance. What’s with the change of heart?”

Sam came clean for the real reason he was here after making the long journey from Oklahoma. You sat on the bed again with your knees pressed to your chest, watching as Sam used the towel you gave him to dry himself off from the rain and the holy water you soaked him with. He explained to you that he had time to think about being apart from you and his brother. During this troubling times, it wasn’t a very smart idea for the three of you to be apart, it was better if all of you remained close together.

“That’s what I keep telling the both of you.” You said, shaking your head in slight annoyance from how stubborn the boys always liked to act out. Sam looks at you and smiles, he lightly chuckles, nodding his head in agreement. You wrap your arms around your knees and absentmindedly look around the room, all before your gaze falls back on Sam, who sat at the edge of the bed. “Sammy, why did you leave in the first place?”

“I…I had a moment of weakness. But I’m better now.” Sam’s answer was vague, but you were willing to take it as a start until you figured out what really made him leave. You nodded your head, letting the both of you fall into a moment of silence. He awkwardly fumbled with the towel, rolling it up into a ball and put it next to him on the bed. Sam looked like he was hesitant about bringing up more to his answer, you give him a bit of confidence when you stare at him with a look of curiosity. “That’s not it, really. I came back for you, Y/N.”

You were caught off guard from what he said, finding it rather out of character. “Excuse me?”

“I had some time to think when I was gone. And I don’t think it’s safe for you to be around Dean. Not with everything going on.” Sam said. He tried to approach the topic with a very slow and cautious demeanor, but you look at him like he just grew a second head through his shoulder. He let out a quiet chuckle, something he did often did when he got nervous. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but think about it, Y/N. Dean’s the vessel to Michael. Every angel out there’s dying to get his hands on him. And I’m sure they’d do just about anything for him to say yes. Including taking the opportunity to try and hurt you to make him crack.”

"It’s crossed my mind.” You said, shrugging your shoulders rather nonchalantly. “But don’t you think it’s best if we stay together?”

“Right now it’s not. Just come with me for a little while, Y/N. The two of us together would be a lot safer.“ Sam tried his hardest to make you change your mind, but you kept staring at him with a skeptical look in your eye. "Come on. Dean’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. He’s got Cas, too. It’ll only be until everything calms down.”

You looked at him with an expression of confusion, wondering where this was all coming from, knowing it wasn’t that long ago he left because of you. But you push the excuse out of your mind, contemplating the theory that he might be right about getting away for a little while until you could track down a way to stop the apocalypse. Yet the other side quickly pulls you back into reality, telling you the plan is too foolish to think it would work. You let out a sigh and pushed yourself to your feet, thinking you might be better at thinking of you were pacing back and forth with your back turned to the younger Winchester.

“I don’t know. Do you really think it’s a good idea just to run? There’s so much going on. I think it’s better to just stick together.” You admit with a voice full of hesitance. You think about his words for just a moment, until you found yourself stopping in your tracks, your back still turned to him. “This just isn't—”

"Like me?” Sam speaks, but when you listen to his voice, it doesn’t sound like him anymore. You looked over your shoulder to look at the man again, but who you stare at from the corner of your eye isn’t Sam Winchester. You quickly spin around in your spot on the floor when you see someone completely different sitting where Sam once was. Your eyes widen in absolute terror from who you see again, the man gives you the type smile that makes your skin crawl. “I told you I’d be back, Y/N.”

“Lucifer.” You speak his name for the first time, and it feels like poison in your mouth.

“You and Sam are hard people to find, Y/N. Harder than most humans.” Lucifer said, his gaze falling down to the ground for a second or two. You furrowed your brow when you heard Sam’s name jump into the conversation. “I suppose you’ll tell me where you are?”

“What do you want with Sam?” You question him with a venomous tone.

“Thanks to him, I walk the earth. I want to give him a gift. As I want to the same for you, too.” He said. “I want to give you everything.”

You scoff at his offer, knowing it was the same stunt he trying pulling from the first time you met him. “I don’t want anything from you.”

Lucifer fell silent, you watched as his facial expression changed as he let out a heavy sigh, he appeared as if he was pained to speak the truth you never would have seen coming. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Y/N. I really am. But Nick here is just an improvisation. Plan ‘B.’ He can barely contain me without spontaneously combusting. I need you and Sam together. That’s why I’m here again.”

You eyebrows furrowed tightly together as you could feel your breathing becoming heavier in nervousness, you were terrified for what you were about to hear. “What are you talking about?”

The Devil himself stood up from the bed, making you notice right away his vessel, Nick, was much taller than you realized. You nervously swallowed as you automatically moved your right foot back when you noticed he was approaching you. “Why do you think it was the two of you were in that chapel? I need you just as much as I need Sam. He’s the one, Y/N.” He said. Your eyes glanced down to see that his hands were pressed together and outstretched in front of him, almost like he was about to pray. Your gaze shot up from what you heard him say next. “Sam’s my vessel. My true vessel.”

“No.” You found the response slipping out of your mouth faster than the words could process in your mind. You dragged your gaze away when you felt yourself becoming overwhelmed with the information you never would have expected to come from this situation. “No, that’s not possible. But—But—Dean, he's—”

“He’s the enemy, that’s what he is. Dean will eventually say yes to Michael, as Sam will to me. It’s how the way it was meant to be. And when Dean says yes, you’ll be good as dead.” Lucifer told you the truth of what was going to happen, despite your willingness to listen. “And I need you alive, Y/N. After all, you’re the true reason why God allowed me to walk on earth again.”

"What?” You asked, a look of confusion stretched across your face.

“It’s a very funny story, really, with a nice little twist that I added. You see, my father wasn’t very happy when I refused to bow down to his humans. So he banished me. But I told you that. What I left out was the little part about how I could get free.” Lucifer said, he reached up a hand to scratch at his vessel’s beard. He was too casual for your personal liking, but he didn’t seem to notice as he continued speaking. “You see, God would let me go—only if I could understand why He created humans in the first place. He wanted me to personally create a human for myself, just to see what it was like. Of course I refused. Spent a few more millennials in the cage. But it wasn’t that bad, it gave me some time to think. About twenty-eight years ago, I had a change of heart. I wanted to see what it was all about.”

Lucifer looked at you, in the darkness of the room, you could see his lips stretch into a smile. “But I wasn’t going to be chained to a measly human. No, I wanted something special, something the world has never seen before. Sort of someone like you, Y/N.”

Your head felt like it was about to explode from all the information that you were hearing. You try your hardest to turn around in your spot and run away from here fast as you could, but when you face the other side of the room, you quickly stop in your tracks when you see Lucifer is standing right in front of you. You stared at him with a terrified expression as your eyes were beginning to glaze over. “Please,” You managed to get yourself to speak after staring at him. “Just leave me alone.”

“You’re mine, Y/N.” Lucifer said. He peered down at you with the type of look that should have made you feel like a coward, knowing the infamous Devil himself is standing in front of you. “You always will be mine.”

“I’m nobody’s.” You hissed at him between clenched teeth. “I’m not your property.”

“You’re right—you’re much better than that. I’m sorry.” Lucifer said. He quickly changed his tone, softening it as he looked at you differently, but still, he made you feel like you were just his little prized possession. “You are just so…perfect, better than I could imagine. I want to give you everything your heart desires. Give you power that one like you deserves.” You quickly shut your eyes and look away, suddenly hoping he would disappear from your sight. You flinch in discomfort when you feel his hand cup your cheek, his thumb brushed away a tear that escaped. When you opened your eyes, you see that it wasn’t Nick, but Sam. "I wish you would come with me, Y/N.”

“No.” You whispered with a voice you could barely hear. “Just leave me alone, please.”

The man standing in front of you was supposed to be your best friend, the man who you’d grown to know as your family. Someone who tried to only do good. You remind yourself it’s the Devil giving you a glimpse of what might be. "My heart breaks for you, Y/N. The weight on your shoulders, being in the middle of this fight. It is more than anyone could bear. And knowing you’re my anchor to this earth. It does comes with its consequences. But it’ll be worth it, I promise. You will come with me, and Sam will say yes to me.”

You shook your head, still trying to cling desperately to your last shred of hope. “You’re wrong.”

“I think I know you two better than you know yourselves.” Sam said. You look away when you see him smile, his cheeks showing off his dimples, making you feel scared for what you were looking at. Because you know it’s not Sam, but it looks so much like him. You think to yourself why it had to be the both of you, the Devil answers for you not a second later. “Because it had to be you, Y/N. It always had to be you.”

You stepped back away from him and turned around on your heels, trying your hardest to keep your vision straight. You inhale a deep breath as you close your eyes for a second, trying your hardest to calm yourself down. After a second of regaining your composure, you decide it’s time to face Lucifer again, but when you look over your shoulder, you see the room is empty. You let out a breath and cross your arms over your chest, suddenly paranoid of what might happen next. You made your way back over to the bed and sit down, the silence numbing your mind for a moment. But the precious scene was ruined by the sound of your cell phone going off.

You nearly jumped out of your skin from the noise you weren’t expecting to hear. You swallow, gaining the composure to grab the cell phone from the nightstand and look at the name to see who’s calling. You feel yourself freeze in nervousness when you notice the name. You wait until the third ring for you to answer, but instead of saying anything, you press the phone to your ear, keeping completely silent.

“Y/N?” The voice over the other end sounded scared as you did. You noticed that it sounded like Sam, but you keep quiet. “Y/N, it’s me—Sam. Are you there?”

“Yeah,” You answered for him, knowing well enough the man had gotten the same visit not that long ago. “I am, Sammy.”


	4. The End.

Driving the Impala was a rare treat of yours that almost never seemed like an option with Dean and his obsessive mannerisms. But the man was feeling a bit generous when the both of you departed on a grueling sixteen hour drive from the last town you ended up in. Dean offered you the keys at the seven hour mark when he stopped to fill up the tank before heading back on the road. He was worried about being too exhausted to continue on despite the coffee you were offering to share with him after you slept a few hours in the back. So you switched with him, allowing him to rest his eyes for the rest of the ride as you took your seat in the driver’s side, At first it was kind of fun to be behind the wheel after such a long time away, but as the time drifted to about nine hours later, you were barely finding it possible to keep your eyelids propped open with the aggravation of sleep deprivation settling into your mood.

You tighten your grip on the steering wheel when you spotted the little motel crammed between an Italian restaurant that looked like it was about to close and a newspaper stand. You found a parking spot against the sidewalk and straighten out the Impala until it was perfect. Killing the engine, you let out a sigh of relief to know that you made it in one piece, and a comfortable bed was just a few hundred feet away. You opened up the driver’s side door and slammed it shut, awakening Dean who had been sleeping on and off over the past few hours. Both of you grabbed your belongings from the backseat and headed to the sidewalk. Your attention was straight ahead on the person running the front desk in the motel, you walked passed a man standing next to the door holding flyers and preaching the word of the impending doom.

“Excuse me, friend,” You were a few feet away from the door when you stopped in your tracks to see the man had come forward to you. “But have you taken time out to think about God’s plan for you?”

Your lips stretched into a faint smile from his words, “God doesn’t have a plan for me. I’m not His child.”

“Of course you are.” The man said as he let out a small laugh, thinking you were pulling his leg by .making him presume you were a nonbeliever of a higher power. “He has a plan for all of us.”

“No, I’m not.” You whispered to him. Your eyes wandered over to see that Dean was finally lifting up the duffel bag of his and slamming the backseat door. You looked over at the man to finish your thought. “I’m really a cambion. You know, sort of like the spawn of Satan. I’m the reason why the Devil’s here on earth and my best friend is his sworn vessel. So, yeah, I’m sure God doesn’t have a plan for me.”

You wished the man a good night with a friendly smile, letting the truth that had been burning in the back of your mind over the past few weeks finally be let out, only for it to come across as a sarcastic ploy to get some bible thumper out of your way. He thought you were joking when he started chuckling ever so slightly, but when you looked over your shoulder, the man started to slowly back away, thinking you were dead serious.

\+ + +

You managed to kick off your shoes and rest yourself against the most comfortable looking thing you’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours, the motel bed. Unfortunately there was only one room available for the night, not giving you much of a choice to avoid Dean and the impending truth that lingered over your head. You were worried about how he was going to handle it if you decided to be be honest for once in your life. Maybe he would believe you and understand, sort of like how he had been with everything else. Or maybe he would view you like his brother—a monster he wanted to shun away, forgetting he ever loved such a thing that wasn’t even really human. You looked away from the wall you had been staring at and glanced over to the window, watching as Dean kept himself busy by shutting the curtains, blocking out the street lamps so you could sleep in darkness.

“We’re talking about the colt, right?” You asked. You sat on the bed with your cell phone on speaker so you and Dean could have a conversation with Cas, who had not even called you five minutes ago. He brought up some interesting news that seemed more like a blessing in disguise from what you had been thinking about. You turned your attention away from the window, finding the idea of having the colt, the one you had spent years gaining and losing, still in decent condition after Lilith got her hands on it. “I mean, as in _the _colt?”

“We are.” Cas said.

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense.” You said, watching for a moment as Dean wandered over to the small kitchen area directly across the bed to grab a beer from the fridge. “I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?”

“What? What? Did—” You overheard what sounded like a truck passing by Cas, making you realize he must be standing at the edge of the highway while having this conversation. “I didn't—I didn’t get that.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh, finding the image a funnier than it should have been. “You know, it’s kind of funny, talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It’s, you know, like watching a hell’s angel ride a moped.”

“This isn’t funny, Y/N.” Cas said with a serious tone. “The voice says I’m almost out of minutes.”

“All right, all right.” You mumbled, letting your smile slowly drift away from your lips as you began tracing a pattern into the stained carpet with your big toe. “I’m telling you, Cas, the demons have melted the gun by now.”

“Well, I hear differently. And if it’s true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the Devil,” Cas argued with you, making you subconsciously roll your eyes in frustration at hearing just the mention of Lucifer’s name. It made your skin crawl all over again from what he had said to you, all the insane allegations you wanted to believe were false. “This is how we do it.”

“All right.” Dean agreed with him, joining on in the conversation. “Where do we start?”

“Where are you two now?” Cas asked.

“Kansas City.” You said. Cranking your neck over your shoulder, you see the room key was still sitting on the nightstand. You twisted yourself around in the bed, outstretching your free hand and snatched the key from the table to read the thick plastic tag to find your exact location. “Century Hotel, room one-thirteen.”

“I’ll be there immediately.” Cas said not a second later.

“What? No, no, dude. No.” Dean complained. He wandered over to the bed, grabbing the phone from your hand as you tossed the keys to the nightstand. “Y/N and I have been stuck in the car for the past sixteen hours together. We’re still human. And there’s stuff I’d liked to do. Eat, for example. And for this case, sleep.” Cas agreed with the plan. You dropped yourself to the middle of the bed in a horizontal position and closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion you’ve been fighting off slowly take over your aching muscles. “Okay, so, you can pop in tomorrow morning.”

“Yes. I’ll just—” Cas tried to speak, but before he could finish his sentence, he heard the line from your end go dead. Dean tossed the phone to the edge of the bed as you rested the crook of your arm over your shoulder, deciding to spend fifteen minutes in this position before taking a much needed shower. You didn’t realize you left the angel standing in the middle of the night at the edge of the empty highway, staring at his cell phone with confusion. When he realized you had hung up on him, he shut his phone and looked straight on, deciding this is how he would spend the next four hours. “Wait here, then.”

\+ + +

You must have fallen asleep for longer than you expected, because when you finally came back around, it felt like you had been out of it for years. Your back hurt from how you had been lying backside on the mattress and your arm had fallen asleep itself after you kept it in the awkward position it wasn’t used to. With squinted eyes, you placed both hands on the mattress, feeling around the material, expecting it to be the soft cotton you had felt before. Instead your fingers brushed against something cold and almost like metal. Your eyes propped open when your finger accidentally slip into a hole, trapping it for a second before you roughly yanked it out, accidentally cutting the skin in the process. You examined your wound for a second before your eyes darted around at your motel room, and what new design you were given while you were sleeping.

Everything in your room like it was stripped bare and exposed to years of wear and tear. You shifted around in bed, only to see the mattress you had been sleeping on was long gone, leaving you on a very uncomfortable metal box spring. You pushed yourself to your feet and cautiously glanced around the room, noticing the paint had faded and chipped away, leaving nothing more than a dull color with shades of brown from mildew. The objects in the room weren’t in better condition, everything was broken or tipped over, neglect for someone to take care of them was evident from the way it ended up. You swallowed as you turned around in your spot on the floor, now facing the window, you instantly noticed that you weren’t alone. Someone was looking at the outside below with their back turned to you.

You were tempted for a second to open your mouth and speak, breaking the eerie silence that had surrounded the both of you. But before you could, you watched as the person turned around in their spot, facing you straight on. It took only a moment before you realized it was Dean, and from the look on his face, the two of you weren’t in Kansas anymore.

\+ + +

It seemed the both of you stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. You and Dean wandered around the motel after you managed to get the door unstuck. The first thing the both of you did was to see if anyone else was here. You checked every room on the floor, there wasn’t a sign of human life beside the garbage they left to rot. You were completely alone, there wasn’t even a mouse that popped up after you disrupted its search for food. The both of you decided it was best if you figured out what was going on by walking out of the motel and to the empty streets below. The feeling of nervousness wouldn’t leave your mind when you made your way out into the wasteland what used to be Kansas City. You knew this wasn’t right, but your mind couldn’t explain what happened, or if you were still sleeping–maybe you were having a very vivid nightmare from all the stress you’d been putting on yourself.

The streets were empty. You couldn’t see a sign of anyone, not a single soul to tell you what was going on. Dean kept your company as the both of you took to the deserted streets, warning you to stick close, knowing anything might just happen if you let your guard down. Junk littered the streets from abandoned cars to debris that once belonged to someone’s daily life. Maybe this was the apocalypse everyone had warned you about. Everyone was dead, except for you and Dean for some reason. You pondered on the thought for a moment’s time until the perfect silence was destroyed by the sounds of glass shattering. You and Dean quickly looked over at one another when you realized the noise had come from an alley not too far ahead from where the both of you were standing.

Dean was a bit hesitant to follow, you shrugged your shoulders, thinking it wouldn’t at least hurt to try. You followed the noise with Dean hot on your trail, the both of you headed down an alleyway tagged with graffiti, much of it you just glanced over, not giving it much of your attention. You wandered around until you turned the corner, that’s when you spotted a little girl. Dean quickly grabbed ahold of your arm and lightly yanked you backwards when he spotted her for himself, seeming to wonder if she could be considered a threat. From the way she was crouched down on the ground with her head hanging low, you noticed she was filthy from her matted hair and dress stained from dirt. You thought she appeared to be wounded, so you did the right thing, you began to approach her to see if she was all right.

“Little girl?” You quietly called out to her, she didn’t move a single muscle. You started to make slow steps when you started to approach her when she wouldn’t respond to you. When you spotted the glass near her feet, you wondered if she had accidentally dropped it while lurking through the trash for something to eat. “Little girl? Are you okay?”

You bent down so you were at her level, curious to see if she was able to speak and tell you what was going on. When you reached out a hand to place it on her shoulder, your eyes drifted down to see a drool of a wet mucus seep out from her mouth, plopping right onto the shards of glass. You furrowed your brow in concern when you noticed it was blood from the color, but your attention was quickly pulled back into reality when you heard a piercing scream. You flinched back your arm when you felt a stinging pain come across your skin after the little girl managed to make her move. You hissed out in pain, but before she could get you again, Dean quickly acted out on his instincts. He roughy grabbed a hold of you, yanking you out of harm’s way before swinging in arm directly at the little girl, throwing away all morals of hurting someone younger.

You stumbled away when you watched as the girl get tossed safely into a pile of mattresses after being knocked unconscious from the blow. You inhaled a deep breath as Dean took a step away from her, slowly approaching you again after noticing there was no movement from her. You inhaled a breath and glanced down at your arm to inspect the damage of the cut, not knowing where the glass had been, you might have been prone to an infection. You and Dean mindlessly turned around in your spot to find a way out of here, as you looked up from your cut, you noticed that you had two options to exit. But your attention was focused on the eight letter word spray painted in crimson red.

“Croatoan.” You whispered to yourself. The word didn’t register in your mind for a few seconds, but you could tell there wasn’t something quite right about it. As you glanced over at Dean to see if he might know why it looked so familiar, it was the look on his face that made you suddenly remember fearful memories you associated with it. “Oh, crap.”

If you thought things couldn’t have gotten any worse, it did. Your eyes drifted away from the word when you noticed a shadowy figure dance across the brick wall. You wondered what it was for a moment, until it came across the corner, making your fears growing even more. You could feel your eyes widened when you saw group of people shuffling forward to the two of you. It started off as no more than three people, but the crowd began to grow even larger, their feet shuffling forward to you. At first you were confused at what was going on. Everyone looked dirty and almost dead in the eyes, there was no emotion, that was, until the man standing in the front of the crowd spotted you first, his eyes drifted over to Dean not a second later. When you noticed the speed was starting to grow into a sprint after they spotted two targets, you bolted out of there.

You ran fast as you could out of the alleyway and back into the isolated streets. Your legs moved quick as they could and you forced yourself to keep your attention directly in front of you. This wasn’t going to play out like a horror movie where the damsel runs for her life from the infected crowd of monsters, only to fall flat on her face and be dragged away for a snack as they tear apart her body. Dean shook the terrifying thought out of your mind when he snatched your arm, yanking you to the right, hoping this could be a way to lose the group. As you took the chance to at least look at the wild group of animals that looked like human, you inhaled a deep breath and focused your gaze in front of you. But you could see the horror cliches were working out when you spotted the high wire fence, cornering you, giving you no chance to make another run for it.

You and Dean stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted a large metal fence, a dead end. You let out a frustrated breath as you began examining the fence, wondering if you could somehow jump it in time or find a rip in the wiring just big enough to squeeze yourselves through. But there was nothing. Much to your dismay, you turned around to face the crowd of people that had been following you for the few blocks now. There was too many people, you knew there wasn’t a chance in hell you could fight your way out of this. But it seemed there was somebody looking out for the both of you.

The sound of gunshots registered in your ears just a few seconds after you saw the man who was starting to make his way forward to you take about six bullets to the chest. You instantly dropped yourself to your knees, Dean followed suit, the both of you stumbling out of firing range as you crawled to find better coverage. You fell to the pavement when you heard the gunshots come dangerously close, Dean did what he thought was necessary, he quickly shielded your body with his, waiting for a break from the madness before it would be safe to move. Both of you stayed in the position for a few seconds, listening to the gunshots as everyone who laid in the path was shot down with no mercy. You suddenly found this situation become even worse when you heard music being blasted through a stereo, drowning out the gunshot sounds. You furrowed your brow, listening to the lyrics, someone thought it would have been funny to play “Do You Love Me” by the Contours. It sure didn’t fit the mood, but someone had a sick sense of humor.

Dean glanced up to see there was another alley just a few feet from where the both of you were lying. He moved up just enough so you could begin crawling to safety, all while trying to keep yourself hidden in the debris that you tried using to keep yourself hidden. The two of you managed to avoid any detection as you found another fence with a decent size break in it big enough to make a getaway. You squeezed yourself through as you stumbled down the steps, Dean followed behind close as possible as the both of you kept yourselves hidden from the danger that lurked outside. You dropped yourself to the pavement and leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath from the unexpected chaos that was brought upon you. You listened as the gunfire began to slowly quiet down, you glanced over at Dean, both of you shared the same baffled look, unsure of what you had been subjected to.

\+ + +

You and Dean traveled through the town, avoiding the dead bodies that littered the streets and listening for anything that might pierce the silence that had been keeping you on edge. Dean managed to find another fence that seemed promising, he worked diligently on digging through the dirt to make the ripped fence bigger for the both of you to squeeze into. When he thought it was decent enough, he had you go first, crawling through the tight space before making his way though himself. You pushed yourself to your feet and dusted off the dirt from your jeans, mindlessly looking ahead, that’s when you noticed a sign. You wandered forward to read it, hoping it would give you insight on what you had landed yourself into. “Crotaton Virus Hot Zone: No Entry By Order of Acting Regional Command August 1st 2014 Kansas City.”

“August 1st, 2014.” Dean’s voice came from behind you, he read the sign for himself to see what was going on here. You read the information for yourself just one more time before looking over your shoulder, wondering if you had really landed yourself five years into the future. Dea shrugged his shoulders, seeming unsure of himself what to believe, it seemed he found something the both of you could use right now, an abandoned car not too far from where you stood. “Let’s hope the poor son of a bitch left us a full tank of gas.”

Both of you headed to the car, happy to see the owner was in an obvious rush to get out of here, because they left the doors unlocked, giving you easy access to the passenger side. Dean took no more than a few minutes to rip out a few wires and fuss around with them until he got the car started, with almost a full tank of gas. You and him got started on the road, driving out to the empty road to see if you could find any survivors out there. You reached out to fumble with the radio, Dean took out his cell phone, hoping to find service. All you gotten was static and Dean the warning of no service. You let out a frustrated sigh, flicking off the radio as Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket, making a remark about how this wasn’t a good sign.

“‘Croatoan pandemic reaches Australia.’”

You heard a voice break the silence, making you jump out of your skin as Dean flinched, not expecting for a familiar friend to pop through. You glanced over your shoulder as Dean looked into the rear view mirror to see Zachariah casually sitting in the backseat, his attention focused on the newspaper he was able to read in the darkness. “I thought I smelled your stink on this 'Back to the Future’ crap.” Dean said, dropping his eyes back to the open road.

“'President Palin defends bombing of Houston.’ Certainly a buyer’s market in real estate. Let’s see what’s happening in sports.” Zachariah was all too casual for your personal liking, he continued flipping through the pages of the newspaper and skimmed through the articles, looking at all of the sections, as if he was searching for a particular one. “That’s right–no more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly. What’s left of congress, that is. Hardly a quorum, if you ask me.”

“What the hell is going on?” You questioned him. “And how the hell did you find me?”

“Afraid we had to tap some unorthodox resources of late—human informants. We’ve been making inspirational visits to the fringier christian groups.” Zachariah explained to you. You realized the man you had spoken to outside of the motel, the one who had been so truthfully sarcastic to, had put you in this situation. “They’ve been given your image along with Dean’s, told to keep an eye out for you two lovebirds.”

“The bible freak outside the motel,” You said. “He ratted us out?”

“Onward, christian soldiers.” Zachariah replied, closing up the newspaper.

“Okay, well, good. Great. You had your jolies.” Dean said with a sarcastic tone. You looked over to see his grip around the steering wheel had turned dangerously tight, his knuckles slowly faded to a shade of white. “Now send us back, you son of a bitch.’

"Oh, you’ll get back—all in good time. We want you two to marinate a bit.” Zachariah explained to you. You narrowed your eyes on him, still unsure of what he was trying to accomplish here. “Three days. Three days to see where this course of actions takes the both of you. Your choices have consequences.” Your eyes wandered down to the newspaper he was holding and read the headline. “This is what happens to the world if Dean continues to say no to Michael.”

“Sarah Palin becomes president? Yeah, that is scary. And here people say Obama was ruining the world.” You said, rolling your eyes in annoyance from the tricks he was trying to pull on you. “Are you going to tell me that Donald Trump is gonna run in 2016 and win, too?”

“Joke all you want, Y/N. Have a little look around before you make up your mind. I’m sure you won’t like what you helped create.” Zachariah warned you. “Have a look see. I’m sure the both of you will change your tune when these three days are up.”

You were about to look over your shoulder once more to give the angel a skeptical look, but when you searched the backseat, Zachariah was long gone. You found yourself sitting back in the passenger side seat and rolled your eyes, finding this situation all too frustrating. The both of you kept driving on the deserted road, hoping when you reached an old friend’s house, he would still be there and could explain what was going on.

\+ + +

When in doubt, go to Bobby’s house. You and Dean arrived in South Dakota an hour after the sun rose, marking the first official day of whatever Zachariah was trying to prove. Bobby’s place was usually in a messy state, but when you took notice, it seemed more out of place than it normally was. The both of you headed to the front door, knocking a few times, waiting to see if somebody would answer. But when nobody did, Dean took it upon himself to slowly open the door and peeked inside, hopeful to find Bobby hiding somewhere.

"Bobby? Bobby, it’s me and Y/N! We’re coming in!” Dean called out as a precaution. He opened the door wider and began to take slow steps inside, you followed behind. The both of you began walking through the house, tracing your steps through the familiar setting, but with much different interior than you had remembered. Everything seemed to have been shoved around and more cluttered than you had last remembered it seeing. Papers were thrown across the floor and books laid all over, not to mention the faded wallpaper was torn off and frames were barely hanging on. You let out a heavy sigh and followed behind Dean, the two of you stumbled into the living room, where you found a sight that didn’t leave a good feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Oh, no.”

You moved forward into the room, your eyes drifting to the wheelchair Bobby used to get around. It laid abandoned on the floor, tilted to the side with its owner nowhere to be seen. You bent down and picked it by the handles, you shoved it upwards so the wheelchair was sitting up properly. In this position, you could see the years clearly in the ripped fabric and rusted metal. You ran your fingers down the armrests, wondering what the hell was going on. “Where is everybody, Bobby?”

You looked around the room to see that Dea had disappeared from your sight, drifting off to another part of the house. You pushed yourself to your feet and searched to see where the man had landed himself. It took a few tries but you found him in the library, his back was turned to you as he stood in front of the fireplace and took apart the secret hiding place where you kept John’s journal when you didn’t carry it on hunts. You wandered forward when he grabbed the journal and began flipping through the familiar pages, hoping to find a certain clue of what was going on, and when he found a photograph sticking out, it seemed that he had done just that.

You peered over his shoulder to see that he was holding a sepia toned photograph. You examined the faces to see it was a group of five men standing outside of a compound you’d never seen before. You glanced over to the right to see Bobby himself in the crowd, along with an all too familiar face, Cas. The angel seemed out of place, holding a gun amongst the group, and sharing the same casual attire, something completely different from what you were used to seeing. Dean’s index finger pointed at something in the background, you didn’t notice it at first until he directed your attention. You noticed it was a wooden sign with the words “Camp Chitaqua” carved into it. You glanced over at Dean, thinking you may have found your first clue to figuring out what really was going on.

\+ + +

The best thing you could find with the word Chitaqua was a lake, and with a simple search of a map, you learned it wasn’t too far from where Bobby lived. You and Dean headed over to see the lake also had a campsite with the same name, providing cabins to locals for a summer’s resort. The both of you wandered through the darkness to try and find a way in, but one thing lead to another, you found yourself lurking in the woods alone. You shoved a tree branch out of the way and took a giant step forward, trying to make your way through. You managed to find an opening that lead directly to the sign you were looking for. You began heading forward after you noticed there was yet another fence keeping you out and a sign that looked confidental enough was only glanced over by you as you walked forward, wanting to take a look around for yourself.

You made it just a foot away from the fence until you spotted two men walking the grounds, probably keeping an eye out for people like you. You quickly hid yourself behind a bush, watching from the shadows as they kept on going, neither one of them seemed to be a threat as they kept a conversation, laughing at certain parts as you watched them head to a cabin way in the distance. You made your way to the fence and looked your fingers through the holes, your eyes drifted across the empty field, not seeming to notice much, that was, until you spotted a very familiar piece of your past. You leaned forward and squinted slightly, wondering if the junk car with its missing wheels and doors was the Impala itself.

You found the smallest beak in the metal fence, but it was enough to get you through and onto the compound. Quietly, you walked forward to the Impala to see your suspicions were right. The car laid with its front doors missing and all the wheels stripped away. You were rather shocked to see what time had done to the car which had shared so many memories for you. You bent down to examine the damage even further, only to see it was even worse. You let out a sigh and rubbed your hand on the steering wheel, the question yet again what was going on lingered in the back of your mind.

The sounds of footsteps crunching underneath the tall grass caught your attention. You looked over your shoulder to see there was somebody coming forward, giving you little time to find a hiding spot. As you were about to circle around the Impala and hide, you squinted your eyes to see in the dark, the shape of the face was a familiar one. You noticed it was Dean, he must have found a way inside and made the same discovery you had. You peeked your head out just enough to see if your suspicions were right. You quietly called out his name, deciding it wouldn’t do harm to put yourself out in the open. When you stood next to the car, Dean’s eyes wandered over to you, but his expression was all from what you were expecting.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted you standing next to the Impala. His expression changed ever so slowly as his gaze lingered longer than it should have been. You watched as his brow tightened and his jaw slowly slack open, almost like you had appeared out of thin air. “Y/N?” Dean whispered your name, breaking the long pause of silence between the both of you. His voice sounded strange, it was quiet and soft, almost like he hadn’t said your name in a long time. You gave him a look as you stepped forward to him, that move instantly broke him out of this trance. “Stay right where the hell you are. Is this some kind of messed up trick your boss thinks is funny? Well, I ain’t laughing.”

“Dean,” You did what you were told, leaving a few feet of distance between the both of you. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you fall down and bump that stupid head of yours while we got separated? It’s me, Y/N.”

“Sure you are.” Dean replied with a bitter tone. “I ain't’ falling for this again.”

You gave him a look of confusion when you listened to the words coming out of his mouth. While you were about to ask him what had crawled up his ass, your eyes drifted down to his outfit, taking notice of the subtly different parts you didn’t notice until now. The Dean standing in front of you was wearing a navy green jacket, something you hadn’t seen before, not to mention the gun holster on his right thigh. You knew something was wrong here, but before you could declare your innocence from whatever accusation he thought you were holding against him, you felt a sharp pain against the side of your head.

Dean watched as your body dropped to the ground, landing safely on the wild grass that hadn’t been taken care in the past four years he’d called this place a safe haven. He dropped himself to a crouch and loomed over your unconscious body, he let the moonlight reflect the features he hadn’t seen in a long time. Reaching out a hand, he softly ran a finger across your skin and flicked a piece of hair that landed in your face. Dean examined you for what felt like a lifetime, his throat was starting to tighten up when he noticed you looked exactly how the day you left him, even with the mouth to match. As a smile began to creep across his lips, the rarest moment of happiness that he hadn’t felt in five years was broken by the sounds of another pair of footsteps approaching from behind.

Pushing himself to his feet and drawing out his gun from the holster, Dean pointed the barrel directly at the stranger who dared creep up on him. Everyone in the camp knew curfew was at nightfall, and all of his men knew not to approach him without warning him first. Dean stared at the person with a dangerous glare, wondering if a croat had somehow snuck itself on the property. But the person staring at him was almost like looking at a mirror. It was him—a much younger him. The Dean standing across from him had his arms drawn out with a pretend look of panic, something he’d always liked to do just to give the look of surprise when monsters got the jump on him. Dean, the real him of this year, cautiously stared at the man, wondering what the freakin’ hell was going on here before his double met the same demise as you.

\+ + +

A dull, throbbing pain in the back of your head greeted you when you found yourself slowly coming back into consciousness. You slowly began to register your surroundings with closed eyes as you felt yourself sitting in an upright position, your back pressed against something that felt uncomfortable and lumpy. Your wounded arm was lifted up high as your other remained on the floor, from the wood you felt, you proposed the idea that you were indoors. You squinted your eyes and let out a groan of annoyance when you felt a sting of pain come from your cut after you tried moving around your arm from the awkward position, but you barely moved it a few inches. Your eyes ripped wide open when you heard the sound of metal clanking together and a coldness touch your wrist. You immediately realized not a second later someone had handcuffed you to a metal ladder, and took the liberty of tending to your wound.

“What the hell?” You muttered underneath your breath as you began trying to remember how you landed yourself in this position. You glanced over to see that Dean was right next to you, and he was handcuffed to the ladder also, something he would soon realize after he came back around. You slowly drew your gaze away from him to look around at the cabin you were in, taking notice most of the belongings in here were minimal, almost like what you would expect for a park ranger’s office. But you found your head snapping straight forward when you heard the sound of someone jamming a magazine clip into a gun. “What the hell?”

There was a man sitting at a table right across the room, he distanced himself from you and Dean, but kept himself busy by putting back together an assault rifle. You nervously swallowed when you made eye contact with the stranger with a same pair of green eyes just like the man lying next to you. Hell, he had the same….everything. The only difference you could tell was in his face, the fine lines you had loved on him were more prominent, aging him for the time frame you were in now. “Shouldn’t be I asking that question, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth to try and figure out a response that could explain what you were doing here, but before you could, you slowly looked over at Dean. The man began to come back around, taking only a few seconds to realize the predicament he was in, and his double sitting right across from him. “In fact,” You watched as the second Dean lowered the rifle to the man sitting next to you, ignoring the surprised reaction. “Why don’t you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t gank you two right here and now?”

“Because you’d be only hurting yourself.” Your Dean responded, hoping a bit of humor might help lighten the mood. It seemed to have done the trick, his doppleganger positioned the gun straight up in the air, continuing on loading it up right in front of you. “Look, man, we’re not shapeshifters or demons or anything, okay?”

“Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you guys were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing.” Future Dean put down he was tinkering with onto the table so he could shift around his seat. He faced the both of you, listing off a few techniques hunters used to make sure unsuspecting visitors weren’t monsters. You noticed that he was staring at you dead in the eye when he listed off the last two, all before his attention drifted to his much younger twin. “But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lock pick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh…resemblance, while you’re at it?”

You shifted your gaze over to the man you were sitting next to, both of you shared a glance, wondering if it would be best to admit why you were really here. You shrugged your shoulders, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to try and put some clarification before somebody got hurt. Looking over at the older man, you admitted the truth by speaking an old name he should have very well remembered. “Zachariah.”

Dean, the one across the room, didn’t hide his surprise from hearing the name he hadn’t heard in a long time. He pushed his chair backwards, letting the legs scratch across the floor, all before he was pushing himself to his feet and looked down at you to give you a skeptical look. It was almost as if he didn’t believe what you had just said. “Come again?”

“I’m you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked us from our bed and threw us five years into the future.” Dean explained to his future self, hoping that could help clear up a few misconceptions that were going on here.

“Where is he?” Dean, the future version, questioned the both of you. You watched as he took a few cautious steps forward to the both of you. “I want to talk to him.”

You shrugged your shoulders and admitted, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, you don’t know.” Future Dean repeated, almost mocking your answer.

“Did you happen to become deaf in the past five years? Like I said, I don’t know.” You replied yet again, admitting that you had no idea where that stupid son of a bitch they called an angel had wandered off to. “Look, we just want to get back to our own freaking year, okay? Not to mention, seeing…this,” You gestured to the Dean sitting next to you and then waved your arm over at the other one standing over you, “It’s kind of freaking me out. We just want to go back to our time. And we sure as hell didn’t ask to be apart of this.”

Dean listened to your answer, but it seemed he wasn’t exactly in the trusting mood, he wanted to see his doppleganger sitting right next to you was truly him. He let out a quiet sigh and wiped his mouth with his hand from the very strange position he’d landed himself in. Dean took another step forward and crouched down so he was at your level, but his attention was solely on his twin, the same one who should have shared all the same memories as he remembered him. “Okay, if you’re me…” He pointed his finger at the younger man. “The tell me something only I would know.”

The man sitting next to you with his wrist handcuffed to the ladder scoffed at the request, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He didn’t know exactly what he could say in order to get himself to prove that he was himself. He thought about an answer as he glanced around the room, taking a chance to examine small little details, all before he was making eye contact with his double, who quietly waited for an answer. Dean quickly looked away when nothing came to mind, that was, until his eyes landed on you. And just like that, he knew exactly what to say.

“Y/N,” You raised your brows when you heard him speak your name, but it wasn’t directed to you. He turned his gaze away from you and looked back at his doppleganger. “We were eighteen when we first laid eyes on her. Thought she was pretty cute, so we tried flirting. Sure didn’t go well, she shot us down, but we kept trying because there was something about her that we liked. Turns out, we ended up getting ourselves into that crap puppy dog love faze we thought would never happen. We…fell for her.”

He admitted the story that you had known well enough, the one where he played as the mystery woman from his past that turned out to be you. His future self narrowed his eyes on him, ever so slightly convinced, but the real Dean wasn’t finished. “But that’s not the Y/N we fell for. It didn’t happen all at once like before. The more we hunted with Y/N, the more we realized how much she meant to us. And you know, that demon deal was a real kick in the pants for us, too.”

His future self fell silent, processing the answer, knowing well enough he was right, that little bit of information was something he hadn’t told anyone but himself. Dean nodded his head at the younger man’s response, deciding that it was enough to believe this situation. He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the table, where you noticed a whole array of weapons scattered across. “So, what—Zach zapped you two up here to see how bad it gets?”

“I guess.” You admitted, thinking there wasn’t too much else you could presume for the time jump. Your eyes were drawn over to the older version of Dean, he grabbed a pistol from the table and cocked it back, just from the small move, he appeared different. He seemed more in control of himself, and much more colder when he looked at you. “Croatoan virus, right? That’s their endgame?”

“It’s efficient, it’s incurable, and it’s scary as hell.” Dean explained the situation to the both of you as he loaded up a duffel bag full of the weapons. You shifted around your arm once more, feeling a cramp beginning to settle after you stayed in the position for too long. “Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that.”

You listened to the information, expecting nothing less from the spread of a disease you had seen in its original phase. While you were happy to see that Dean was still alive and kicking five years later, someone else came across your mind, making you wonder what happened. “What about Sam?”

Dean stopped packing when he heard the name, it was almost as if it had brought back a few bitter memories that he wished to forget. He looked over at you to answer your question, despite not wanting to open up old wounds. “Heavyweight showdown in Detroit.” He said, telling you what he knew. “From what I understand, you and Sam didn’t make it.”

You furrowed your brow when you heard the information you would have never suspected to come through. You always thought time could heal all wounds, the boys weren’t the type to go on for too long, they always found their way back to each other. “What?” You asked, your voice suddenly coming out quiet. “What happened?”

“Oh, I think you remember.” Dean responded, his eyes drifting over to you when he made a small jab. You gave him a confused look, unsure of what he meant by that. “Me and Sam, we hadn’t talked in, hell, five years. I’d say about the same time, too, after Y/N ran off to look for him, thought she could get the family back together. Guess it didn’t turn out pretty.” The Dean sitting next to you listened to the information, and from the look on his face, it was as if someone punched him right in the gut after hearing you and his little brother didn’t share the same fate as him. “Look, I would love to frolic down memory lane, but I got other people to worry about. And I got to run an errand.”

"Whoa. You’re just gonna leave us here?” You questioned the man.

“Yes.” Dean answered with a sharp tone, as if he was just expecting for you to listen to his command without backlash. “I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need is to see is a double showing of ‘The Parent Trap’ and 'Pet Sematary.’ So, yeah, you two stay locked up.”

“Okay. All right. Fine. But you don’t have to cuff us, man.” Dean said, agreeing to a certain part of the plan only to hope and squeeze out another part after he was getting a muscle cramp. His future self didn’t listen, he just zippered up the duffel bag and flung the strap over his shoulder, he grabbed his gun and headed for the door. “Oh, come on. You don’t trust yourself?”

“No. Absolutely not.” His future said. He reached up a free hand and pointed a finger at you, making you give him a confused look from the accusation. “Especially not her.”

With that, Dean opened up and slammed the door, heading out to whatever task that was more important. You scoffed from what he had said to you as you dropped yourself into a more comfortable position after awkwardly craning your neck to look over your shoulder. You settled yourself into a comfortable position and glanced over at the Dean you arrived with to speak to him in private. “Future you is a dick.”

\+ + +

It might have taken all night, but Dean found a way to get the both of you out. Most floorboards were held down with very small nails, a perfect substitute he could use after his lock pick was taken away. You were overjoyed when your arm was free after spending countless hours in the same position and given the chance to finally stretch your legs. The both of you decided to play with a bit of fire, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to explore the compound to figure out what was going on here, and if there was another familiar face still breathing.

You quietly opened up the door to the cabin and stepped out to the porch, you took a moment to explore the camp. Everything was what you might have expected for an end of the world compound, there was all sorts of technological looking things spread around the place, not to mention cars that laid abandoned, stripped away from their parts that were still good. You walked down the few steps with Dean following right behind you, the both of you cautiously looked to see if there was anyone around, but there wasn’t a single soul in sight. You thought it was the perfect time to try and explore more of the place, but you flinched when you heard a voice approach you from behind, and from the sounds of it, you recognized it as a familiar one.

“Hey, Dean.” You quickly turned around on your heels when you heard the voice. You looked straight ahead to see that it was Chuck Shurley. He was approaching Dean with a clipboard in his hand and a pen in the other. It was an important set of tools for a writer, but he wasn’t here to discuss the plot of his next book. He was here on very much more important business. “You got a second?”

“No. Yes. Uh,” Dean was caught off guard, surprised himself to see the man he hadn’t been in contact with over the past few months. He tried to get himself to focus after you roughly jabbed your elbow into his side, luckily going unnoticed by Chuck. “I—I guess. Hi, Chuck.”

“Hi.” Chuck greeted the man with a brief response before his attention back to his clipboard, needing to discuss the monthly inventory he spent all morning counting. “So, uh, listen, we’re pretty good on canned goods for now, But we’re down to next to nothing on perishables and hygiene supplies. People are not gonna be happy about this. What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know.” Dean answered with an honest response. Chuck looked at the man as if he’d gone crazy, so Dean decided to change his answer to something his future self might suggest. “Maybe, uh, share? You know, like at a kibbutz.”

“Wait a minute. Aren’t you supposed to be out on a mission right now?” Chuck found himself overstepping the boundaries by asking questions Future Dean wouldn’t be too pleased with. But it seemed the man could detect that something was off with him. Dean raised his eyebrows, pretending to be casual about the matter, but it didn’t help when the man slowly looked away from him, and pointed the pen he was holding directly at you. Dean, the future version of himself, had set up a pretty strict set of guidelines of not letting any more survivors into the campsite, not since the last incident. “And who is she?”

“Absolutely. And I will be.” Dean said, making up an excuse for the man’s first answer. He placed a hand on your shoulder and quickly made up an excuse before any other questions could arise. “This is…she’s new. Thought I would show her the ropes before heading off.”

Chuck continued to look at Dean with a funny expression, but his attention drifted to something else. You noticed his expression had changed drastically when he spotted a familiar face approaching Dean from behind, and before he could give a warning, the threat grabbed him from behind. You quickly found yourself stumbling backwards when you noticed a blurry figure suddenly pop out of nowhere. A woman you’ve never seen before suddenly came into the conversation swinging, literally. She started punches directly aimed at Dean, giving no excuse of why. You watched with confusion as he tried stumbling away, unsure himself what the hell was going on, but she was persistent, trying to knee him in the groin before Dean managed to find safety by hiding behind Chuck. You heard the man speak her name in a calm tone, your eyes wandered to Risa, who wasn’t very happy.

“You spent the night in Jane’s cabin last night, didn’t you?” Risa questioned the man, thinking it was of her time. You raised your brow from the accusation, Dean seemed baffled, Chuck ratted him out by nodding his head. She scoffed and shook her head, disbelief written in her expression as she looked over at you. “Oh, I see how it is. You find a survivor that’s young and pretty, so you decide to bend the rules for a new face. And here I thought we had a 'connection.’”

“Well, I’m sure that we do.” Dean said, cracking a smile at the woman.

“Yeah?” Risa asked. “Screw you, jackass.”

You watched as Risa stormed off, obviously not pleased at seeing another face, and from what you were getting, it seemed there was a few set of rules that you were breaking just by being here. Nobody knew who you were, which was a good thing, it meant at least nobody was freaking out seeing a face coming back from the dead. Dean, on the other hand, was trying to process what just happened. “Oh, geez, I’m getting busted for stuff I haven’t even done yet.” He muttered underneath his breath. Chuck’s remark quickly made the man focus back his attention after seeing Risa disappear from sight. “Uh, never mind. Hey, Chuck, is…Cas still here?”

“Yeah.” Chuck answered, quietly chuckling to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think Cas is going anywhere.”

Hearing that Cas was still around was the best thing you had heard since you gotten here. Chuck told you where you could find the angel after heading back to the problem that needed to be solved about rations. You made it across the compound with Dean, managing to avoid another deranged woman or a familiar face from your past. You made it up the cabin steps and began to approach the doorway, you noticed right away the door was replaced with a string of beads. Dean shrugged his shoulders when you glanced over at him, deciding on to approach himself first into the cabin, he moved along the strings, peeking his head inside when he heard Cas’s voice.

“So, in this way, we’re each a fragment of total perception—just, uh, one compartment in that dragonfly eye of group mind. Now, the key to this total, shared perception—it’s um, it’s surprisingly physical.” This didn’t sound like the Cas you had remembered. You approached behind Dean and stepped inside the bedroom that looked like it would have belonged to a peace loving, earth worshipping hippie. You peered over Dean’s large frame to see that Cas wasn’t the angel you would have suspected he would have become in five years. He was sitting on the ground, a circle of four women around him, passionately listening to every single word of philosophy as if it were the best thing they had ever heard. The angel stopped speaking when he noticed Dean lingering in the doorway. “Oh. Excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute. Why not go get washed up for the orgy?”

What came out of the angel’s mouth made you do a double take, needing to take a further inspection of him. You got out of the way when the women made their exit so they could prepare for whatever the hell was going to happen. You had only known Cas as the angel who wore his suit and trench coat, a speciesism who you recently came to realize was still a shy little virgin. What you saw was a complete opposite. The angel standing in front of you was more of a relaxed version of himself, his hair was longer and he was showing of a beard. Not to mention as the woman passed by, he worshiped them and complimented them on their beauty, obviously showing you how easily he adjusted to the opposite gender and coming to love what they could offer.

Cas pushed himself to his feet, deciding to take the time on stretching out his limbs, cracking a few bones in the process. Dean took a few steps into the room, needing to find out what happened to the angel. “What are you, a hippie?”

“I thought you’d gotten over trying to label me.” Cas said, taking his time cracking his neck. He let out a sigh and turned around in his spot, finally facing the both of you, only he was taken back at who he was seeing. “Whoa. Strange. You…are not you—not ‘now’ you, anyway.” He noticed right away from Dean, but when he spotted you, that was a whole other story, he looked at you like he was reunited with a best friend he hadn’t seen in years. Before you could realize what was happening, you found yourself being pulled into a hug by him. He squeezed you tightly and rocked you back and forth, muttering your name. You were happy to see that he remembered who you were, but he was only beginning the reunion. He pulled away, only before his hands cupped your face, as if he needed to take a closer inspection of you. "Y/N, sweet Y/N. It’s been so long. What year are you both from?”

You managed to pull yourself away from the angel, finding his welcome a bit too much for your own personal comfort. "2009.” You answered for him after standing next to Dean again.

“That explains why you’re still…you, Y/N. Who did this to you? Is it Zachariah?” Cas asked, you nodded your head. The angel processed the information, he let out a sigh and lifted a finger to his chin. “Interesting.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s friggin’ fascinating.” Dean remarked with sarcasm. “Now why don’t you strap on your angel wings and fly me and Y/N back to our page on the calendar?”

Cas responded to the man’s command by laughing, but it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. Oh, no. It was because you reminded him of what he couldn’t do anymore. “I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I’m sorry—no dice.”

You thought the chuckling would have stopped, but it seemed Cas turned his bitter memory into a joke. His lips stretched farther into a toothy grin as he kept chuckling. You stepped forward to examine him, and from a simple sniff, you threw an accusation at him. “Are you stoned?”

“Generally,” Cas admitted with a shrug. “Yeah.”

“What happened to you?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask.

“Life.” The angel said. “That’s what happened.“

You were tempted to figure out what he meant by that answer, but your attention was being pulled away when you heard something coming from outside, it sounded like a car engine. You headed back outside, pushing away the strings as you stepped onto the porch. You noticed about two cars, a truck and a jeep, pulling back into the compound. Dean noticed it himself, but when you spotted a familiar face in the driver’s side, you began making your way forward through the unfamiliar surroundings and straight for the jeep, knowing that’s where the future version of Dean was.

You watched as he got out, his men followed suit, grabbing the supplies they snatched, all while Dean toasted them for a job well done by handing out a few cans of lukewarm beer. All seemed to have been going well, that was, until you noticed Dean do something he would never do. He pulled out his gun from the holster and pointed it directly at one of his men, who didn’t suspect a thing.

"Hey. Hey!” You did what you thought was right, suddenly wondering if this version of Dean had suddenly turned himself into a psycho. You began sprinting forward, trying your hardest to stop the situation before an innocent man’s life was cut short. “Watch out!”

But the warning went unnoticed. You stopped in your tracks when you heard the gunshot come from Dean’s gun and the man landed face first into the dirt. You inhaled a deep breath from what you had witnessed at what Dean had done without a single ounce of remorse. His men were taken back themselves, but it wasn’t seeing one of their own be murdered, you noticed right away they were staring at you—and the much younger version of Dean standing back with Cas, surprised himself at what unfolded. Dean, of this present, looked over his shoulder to see what was causing such a distress. He lowered his gun and looked over his shoulder, quickly spotting you right away, and to his dismay, his doppleganger hanging around Cas the hippie. Things had gone from bad to worse case scenario.

“Damn it.” Dean hissed underneath his breath. He let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he was going to have to explain this messy situation to his men. “I’m not gonna lie to you. Me and him—it’s a pretty messed up situation we got going on. And as for her, you are not to go near her, she’s my responsibility. I suggest you leave it at that. When you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do. And Cas,” Dean pointed a finger the angel when he noticed his younger self was hovering next to him. “Keep an eye out for him. I’ll be back.”

Nobody seemed to try and ask a question, you watched as the men nodded their heads, listening to the command. You furrowed your brow as your eyes drifted to the ground where you saw the man still lying on the ground, blood still seeping out from his his gunshot wound to the head, slowly mixing with the dirt and creating clumps that passed as a shallow puddle. Your gaze was ripped away when you felt someone tightly wrap their hand around your arm, yanking you forward. Your head snapped to the side to see that it was Dean, he kept his gaze straight ahead, not caring that he was pulling you around. You tried your hardest to shove him away, but he only pulled you closer, making you accidentally stumble and fall into his chest. He didn’t seem fazed, he just pulled you back up to your feet and lowered his head down so his lips were hovering over the shell of your ear.

“If you want to survive sweetheart, I suggest you start listening.” Dean warned you, deciding it’d be best to give you a bit of a personal taste for what kind of man he became. You and him walked together in sync back to the cabin you had woken up in. You roughly felt yourself being shoved inside as Dean followed suit, he slammed it shut after, giving the both of you privacy. “What the hell was that?”

“What the hell was that?” You questioned him back. Your finger pointed at the door and showed no signs of being afraid of his stern expression, he dropped the duffel bag he was carrying to the table. “You just shot a guy in cold blood!”

“We were in an open quarantine zone—got ambushed by some crotes on the way out.” Future Dean explained to you. You raised your brows from the terminology you weren’t familiar with, he rolled his eyes. “Crotes—Croatians. One of them infected Yager.”

You narrowed your eyes on him suspiciously, “How do you know?”

“Cause after a few years of this, I know, sweetheart.” Dean said. You didn’t seem to take his word for it as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I started seeing symptoms about a half an hour ago. Wasn’t gonna be long before he flipped. I didn’t see the point of troubling a good man with bad news.”

“'Troubling a good man’? Do you hear yourself?” You found yourself arguing with him, suddenly overwhelmed at how different Dean had become over the years. “You just shot him in front of your own people. Don’t you think that freaked them out a little bit?”

“It’s 2014, Y/N. Plugging some crote—it’s called commonplace. Trading words with someone who’s been dead for four years and having them seeing my friggin’ clone running around here—that might have freaked them out a little.” Dean said, his voice was beginning to grow ever so slightly louder and more rougher. You decided that it was enough, you threw your hands up in defeat, wanting to end this before it could get worse. But before you could say anything, he cut you off. “Listen here, Y/N, You can drop this little act and listen for once. This isn’t your time. It’s mine. You don’t make the decisions. I do. So, when I say stay in, you stay in.”

“So when you tell me to jump, should I ask how high?” You couldn’t help yourself when you began mocking him, not particularly enjoying this little rise of power he was using on you. You waited for him to respond with something more threatening to keep you quiet. Instead he began walking forward to the other side of the cabin, grabbing a few things from the countertop. What you heard next made you look at him with a bit of surprise—he was ever so quietly chuckling to himself. "What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Dean said. He grabbed a glass bottle of whiskey from the countertop and two clean glasses, sliding them over, he began pouring a shot glass amount in them. You walked over to the table when he snatched the glasses up, pinching them between his index and thumb, his other hand carrying the bottle back over to where you were. He placed the glasses down and grabbed one for himself, allowing you to take the other. You decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a drink, but when you took a sip of the whiskey, you accidentally hissed after you felt it burn down your throat. Dean watched you, quietly snickering to himself. “You could never handle whiskey.”

"Guess not. What was the mission, anyway?” You asked him, deciding to bring this conversation on something more important. Dean was about to finish his drink, but stopped himself when he heard your question. He seemed hesitant to show you, but after a second, he placed down his glass, and reached out for the duffel bag. He unzipped it and opened up the sides, all before pulling out something you thought you’d never see again. You looked up at Dean when he held it close to him. “The colt? Where was it?”

“Everywhere. They’ve been moving it around. Took me five years, but, I finally got it. And tonight,” Dean examined the colt with a close eye, his lips stretching into a grin as he inspected the craftsmanship. He gently placed it back down on the table, switching it out for his glass of whiskey. “Tonight, I’m gonna kill the Devil.”

Dean took the final sip of his drink like a champ, he licked his lips and let out a sigh, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have another one for his accomplishment. As he reached for the bottle to pour himself another drink, you leaned forward and placed both your palms on the table, you quietly examined the colt. “Wow. You spent five years hunting down the colt.” You started a conversation that seemed civil enough. Your eyes slowly wandered back up to the man, he was much different from what you could remember. He was thirty five years old, each little wrinkle on his face showed his age, and the struggles he went through life without you. “Five years you wasted instead of tracking down your brother. You selfish, stupid, son of a bitch.”

From the look on his face, Dean wasn’t expecting for you to respond like this. You didn’t care about listening to his command of listening him. This might have been his time, but he was the reason why you and Sam were dead. “What the hell happened to you, Dean? Were you that selfish that you would rather had your brother die than go after him?” You questioned him as you circled around the table, slowly approaching him. “Would you rather track down the colt and see your only family perish?”

“I tried, Y/N. God knows I tried. But you wouldn’t listen to me. You were so stubborn headed. You put yourself out there—You made that decision, you wrote your own fate.” Dean argued with you, his finger pointing at you while it held his glass. You watched as he stared at you, and for the first time, you could see the real Dean slowly creep through. “And for the past five years, it’s killed me knowing what I’ve done. I’ve have gone through every single way I could have stopped from losing you and Sammy. But I can’t go back. This was the only thing that’s kept me sane all these years.”

You found yourself slowly losing the frustrated glare you were giving him after you started seeing a softer side to him. You looked away when you realized what was happening. He loomed over you, taking the chance to examine the features he hadn’t seen in five years. Before he could stop himself, you felt him reach out a hand, softly cupping your chin in his grip. Your eyes darted over to him as he turned your head to his direction. From the way he was looking at you, your heartbeat began to pound harder against your ribcage. It didn’t help when you felt his thumb lightly brush against your lips, he sank his teeth into his bottom lip after feeling them again after so many years of being apart.

"What about Jane and Risa?” You found yourself quietly asking. Without much of a thought, you were leaning forward, wanting to do exactly what crossed his mind since he first laid eyes on you last night. “Aren’t they your little girlfriends now?”

“I tried, but sweetheart, nobody could replace you, trust me.” Dean admitted as his lips stretched into a smirk. “Not even Risa.”

Before either one of you could realize what was happening, you felt Dean softly place his lips on yours, making your eyelids slowly flutter shut. Dean let go of the glass, quickly shoving it back to the table, not caring when he heard the whiskey spill all over the table, for his hands were preoccupied by snatching you by the hips, possessively pulling you close to his body as he deepened the kiss. You didn’t seem to process that you were kissing a different version of the man you loved. Someone who was seven years older than you, and had spent that time apart from yo. For a second you wondered if this was even considered cheating. But Dean didn’t care, for he had five years to make up for lost time, and a few hours of treating you like a dick. All you knew was that he wasn’t going to let go of you from how he was pulling you closer to his body, wanting to enjoy this moment before it was gone.

\+ + +

“So, that’s it? That’s the colt?”

The weapon hunters used to tell their children at night, the gun rumored to kill anything put in the path of a speeding bullet, was displayed in the middle of the table for the small group of five to examine underneath the florescent light. You leaned yourself against the backside of the cabin and kept your knees against Dean’s legs, your eyes focused on his older self. You watched as he placed both palms against the wooden table and leaned over the gun, as if he were protecting it. Cas strolled around the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey you had shared with the other Dean and poured himself a cup. He headed over to the table, passing by Risa, who quietly lurked forward, she was all too quiet tonight for the meeting Dean called. Cas dropped himself into a free chair and kicked up his feet, he poured himself a drink, only practicing in the conversation with nods. But you had a feeling he didn’t know what was going on.

Dean cranked his neck upwards to look at the woman so he could he answer her suspicious questions. “If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it.”

“Great.” Risa replied, her tone was short. You looked away as you tried your hardest not to snicker from her behavior that you knew all too well as a woman. “Have we got anything that can find Lucifer?”

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, not having a single clue what she was pissed about.

“Oh, you were in, uh, who was it—Jane’s cabin last night? And, apparently, you and Risa have a ‘connection.’” You spoke up for her, even adding the air quotes around the final word as she had done this morning. The reason she was still pissed off at him was because she caught you making out, destroying yet another fragile hope for anything in this wasteland of a life. “I see monogamy still isn’t your strong point.“

Dean, the one sitting next to you, couldn’t help himself chuckle at the messy situation he could only see happen. But it was nice to have an outside experience, and not to be the one holding a bruised cheek. Risa crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the Dean from her present, Cas just shook his head, laughing quietly into his drink. "You want to shut up, Y/N?” Dean asked you with a stern voice. You played along with the little game, you threw your hands up in defeat and fell silent, allowing him to continue on. “We don’t have to find Lucifer. We know where he is. The demon that we caught last week—she was one of the…big guy’s entourage. Lucifer’s right hand woman. She knew.”

“So, a demon tells you where Satan’s gonna be, and you just believe it?” Risa asked, continuing to show her doubt for this plan. She might have been part of this small circle of people Dean trusted in the future, but she sure showed a lot of suspicion, not seeming trust an answer from a demon she was never allowed to interrogate herself, or for that matter, even see besides the man himself. 

“Oh, trust me—she wasn’t lying.” Dean said. You noticed that he actually felt proud of himself for what he could admit to the group. “She was singing like a canary when I got done with her.”

Risa couldn’t help help herself but press for one more question, “And you know this how?”

“Our fearless leader, I’m afraid,” Cas peered down into his metal cup that was once filled with at least at least a mouthful of whiskey, now it remained empty. He grabbed the bottle, pouring himself yet another sizeable drink. “Is all too well schooled in the art of getting the truth.”

“Torture?” You found yourself presuming. You quickly looked over at the Dean sitting next to you, the both of you shared a look of surprise from what was being brought up. Dean had swore to you he would never do anything like that again, not after a failed attempt with that nasty demon Alastair. You slowly looked over at the Winchester of this time period, suddenly you were finding the conversation you had with him nothing more than a bunch of lies. You made him look away from the colt he was examining and to your furious expression. “Oh, so, you’re torturing again. No, that's—that’s good. Classy, even. I’m sure it brings backs a lot of good and warm memories.”

Dean wasn’t too happy about the change of tone you were giving him, putting the both of you a few steps back, and it wasn’t helping when Cas began laughing in amusement from your sarcasm, but Dean didn’t seem to approve from the sour look on his face. “What?” Cas asked, not seeming the harm in his honest reaction. He quietly lowered himself to a few more chuckles before stopping all together. “I missed Y/N. She always had spunk, and a hell of a mouth.”

“Lucifer is here.” Dean ignored the comment, he cleared his throat and placed out a map. You took a few steps forward and noticed a circle in red marker, Dean tapped his index finger against the mark. Everyone seemed to have ignored the conversation that happened not even a few seconds seconds ago, but the younger Winchester seemed to find it hard to focus on the more important task at hand, for there was a little detail he couldn’t stop thinking about. “Now, I know the block and I know the building.”

"Oh, good,” Cas kicked his feet back to the floor and leaned forward to examine the map. When he realized where he location was, he wasn’t exactly pleased. “It’s right in the middle of a hot zone.”

“Crawling with crotes, yeah.” Dean finished the man’s thought, knowing well enough the danger he was putting himself into. “Are you saying my plan is reckless?”

“Are you saying we, uh, walk straight up the driveway past all the demons and the crotes, and we shoo the the devil?” Cas implied, the Dean in charge answered with a yes. “Okay, if you don’t like, uh, 'reckless,’ I could use 'insouciant,’ maybe.”

“Are you coming?” Dean asked, not wasting time beating around the bush.

“Of course. But why is he?“ Cas asked. He nodded his head back to the young man standing at your side, the version of Dean that was the most vulnerable person of screwing up time if nobody was safe. "I mean, he’s you five years ago. If something happens to him, you’re gone, right?”

“He’s coming.” Dean, the future version of himself, decided that before the other one could protest.

“Okay.” Cas agreed, knowing from the tone of voice, it was better to sneak away before an argument could break out. He looked over at the younger Dean, he nodded his head for the door, deciding it would be best if everyone got ready for this big fight that would be happening in mere hours. “Well, uh, I’ll get the grunts moving.”

“We’re loaded and on the road by midnight.” Dean instructed to his people. He watched as his people listened to the command without a single word of protest. While he was about to get himself ready for the big show off, he pointed a finger at his younger self before his thumb signaled for the door. “Why don’t you make yourself useful for once and help them load stuff up? We need all hands on deck.”

Dean seemed skeptical at first from the thought of leaving you alone with his older self after how he so carelessly treated you before. He didn’t know about the kiss and make up part you and his doppelgänger had done, you looked over at the younger man and gave him a reassuring smile to let him know you were fine. He looked away from you and gave himself a quick glance over, all before he was stepping outside to find out where Cas was. You heard the door slam shut, leaving you and his older version of himself alone again. The room fell silent as you crossed your arms over your chest, silently watching as Dean began folding the map back up and snatching the colt from the table so he could put it back until later tonight.

“Why are you bringing us?” You asked, curious to find out the real answer he didn’t tell anyone.

“Relax. The both of you will be fine.” Dean said, he brushed off your concern. “I’m sure Zach is looking out for him.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You said. Your voice grew harder as you stepped forward to him until you were standing in front of the table so you were directly across from him. “Don’t lie to me. I want to know what’s going on.”

Dean didn’t seem to throw a protest, he let the bag he was holding drop to the table with a quiet thud and began walking forward to you. “You’re coming because I want you to see something.” His reason made you look at him, wondering what it was. “I want the both of you to see Sam.”

You furrowed your brow when you heard his real answer, knowing it didn’t match what he had said about the man when you asked about him. “Sam? I thought he was dead.”

“Sam didn’t die in Detroit. He said ‘yes.’” Dean said the three words, and from the expression starting to settle on your face, he didn’t need to say those words about him saying yes to the Devil. He knew the bitter truth you had been hiding to him all along in hopes you could stop it, but it seemed you were too late. Lucifer was wearing Sam to the prom like a cheap suit. “You know what the funny thing was? Sam told me about him being Lucifer’s vessel. It was the last conversation I had with him. I pushed him away thinking it was for the best. But…look at what happened.”

You found yourself leaning against the table and balanced as you stared off into the distance. “ I…I don’t understand.” You mumbled, shock kept little words coming out from your mouth. You blinked and looked up at Dean, “Why would he do that?”

“He made a deal with the Devil.” Dean admitted with a bitter tone. He began taking steps closer to you as he crawled closer to the truth. You looked at him, wanting to know what he meant by that. “It was you or him, Lucifer wanted his vessel. And he didn’t get that, you were the next best thing that he could play with to get his answer. I tried hiding you for long as I could. You ran off, thinking you could solve this yourself. but…I was too late. Lucifer got the both of you right here wanted.” You didn’t get the chance to ask him what he hinted around, he continued on speaking. “But that’s gonna change after I get my hands on him. We gotta kill him, Y/N. That’s why I want you to come.”

"What?” You found yourself looking at him with a distressed look from what he was asking of you.

“We don’t have a choice. It’s in him, and it’s not getting out. And we’ve got to kill him, Y/N.” Dean told you without missing a beat, his tone was calm and effective. He had five years to get himself mentally settled with this plan, you suddenly wished you were back in your own time again, away from everything that was happening faster than you could process. “And you need to see it—the whole damn thing, how bad it gets—so you can make me do it differently.”

You furrowed your brow tightly as you could, “What do you mean?”

“Zach said he was gonna bring you and Dean back to '09, right?” Dean asked you. You looked at him with a skeptical look, but you nodded your head slowly. He took one more step until he was directly next to you, wanting you to look at him directly in the eye from what he was about to say next. He wanted you to know how dead serious he was about this. “Well, when you get back home…you make me say 'yes.’ You hear me, Y/N? Make me say 'yes’ to Michael.”

“Are you crazy?” You respond the way he knew you were going to. You stare at him, at first, with a baffled expression, but the realization of what might happen quickly settled in, that’s when you lash out at him. “If you let him in, then Michael fights the Devil. The battle’s gonna destroy half the planet.”

“Look around you, sweetheart. Half the planet’s better than no planet. Which is what we have now.” Dean argued with you. “If I could do it over again, I’d say 'yes’ in a heartbeat.”

“Then why haven’t you?” You questioned him.

“I’ve tried! I’ve shouted 'yes’ until I was blue in the face! The angels aren’t listening! They just…left—gave up! It’s too late for me,“ Dean admitted to you. You shook your head, silently disagreeing with what he was trying to make you do as you looked away from him. "But for you—”

"Oh, no.” You muttered, a bitter chuckle came out from your mouth. You didn’t want to be apart of this fight, you already had enough on your mind. “There’s got to be another way.“

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. I was cocky. Never actually thought I’d lose. But I was wrong. Y/N,” Dean was pleading with you from the tone of his voice, but you wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t help himself when he reached out his arms, you felt his calloused and rough skin, sort of like his new personality from the past five years of lonely bitterness, touch your cheeks when his hands cupped your face. You found yourself staring directly into his green eyes, the ones that no matter how many years passed by had passed, still looked the same. Except for this time. You noticed he was looking at you with a desperate expression, pain was clear in his eyes, you couldn’t look away, no matter how hard you wanted you. “I was wrong. And I’m begging you. Make me say 'yes.’”

“Why aren’t you trying to persuade him?” You asked him, your voice coming out more of a whisper.

“I know myself. He won’t do it. 'Cause I didn’t do it. Because that’s just not us.” Dean admitted the honest truth to you. No matter who told him to do the right thing, angels or even himself, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing what they wanted. “I don’t trust myself. Not like I trust you, Y/N. That’s why I’m telling you.”

You looked at him straight in the eye with a sorrowful expression, "I can’t.”

“I love you, Y/N. I always will.” Dean reminded you. “You have to change your own fate, too.“

You were caught off guard from what he said, but before you could ask him, you were quieted down when you felt his lips softly press against yours again. You shared yet another kiss, but this time, it didn’t feel passionate and full of life. It felt like a soldier kissing his lover goodbye, putting all he had, for there was a chance of never seeing her again. You felt his hands slowly weave into your hair, but before either one of you could deepen the kiss, you were caught off guard by the sound of the squeaking hinges coming from the door.

You quickly pulled away from Dean to see him standing in the doorway, a surprised look on his face at what he saw. You could feel your heartbeat suddenly stop when you realized what Dean, your real Dean—the one who told you how he fell in love with you—had accidentally interrupted. At first he didn’t think much of it, but slowly, you could see the anger slowly creep into his expression, and before you could explain, the cabin door slammed shut, and his figure was swallowed by the night’s darkness.

\+ + +

All of you were ready to hit the road just a few minutes after midnight. Dean #1 was riding with Risa in her truck, as the other was finishing up loading his jeep as Cas declared you his partner for the six hour drive. You tried your hardest to talk to Dean about what he saw, but he kept pushing you away, wanting to focus on the task at hand. You luckily found a distraction for yourself when Chuck came up to you with a rather stunned expression, and through his routine check while following all of you outside, he confronted the news of seeing you alive in the flesh again.

"So, you and Dean are really from '09?” Chuck asked you as the both of you walked in the darkness to Cas’ car. You nodded your head. “Some free advice? You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand me? Hoard it. Hoard it like it’s made of gold. 'Cause it is.”

“Thanks, Chuck.” You muttered, your lips stretching into a faint smile.

“Oh, you’ll thank me all right.” Chuck said. “Mark my words.”

“I’ll see you around.” You said to him, stopping at the passenger side door of the truck.

Chuck waved you goodbye, you gave him one last smile before you opened up the door to the trunk and pulling yourself inside. You slammed it shut and adjusted yourself in your seat, getting comfortable for the long journey you had for you. Swallowing ever so quietly, you looked straight ahead when you felt Cas get into the driver’s side, trying to wrap your mind around everything that was happening at once. But one thing kept coming back, and it was a question; which situation was worse? Killing Sam after he became possessed by the Devil? Or persuading Dean to say yes to the becoming the vessel for Michael?

\+ + +

The first hour of the drive was silent, you mostly stared off into space, keeping the lack of conversation as a way to ignore any awkward small talk between you and this new version of Cas. You looked away from the window when you heard something rattling coming from your right side. You glanced over at Cas to see that he grabbed something from the glove compartment, but from the darkness, you couldn’t see what it exactly was. He left one hand on the wheel as he popped off the top of something that looked like a pill bottle. You raised your brows when watched him rattle out about two pills before popping them into his mouth. Without even a drink, he swallowed the pills and put the lid back on. You reached out your arm and waved for him to hand them over.

“You want some?” Cas offered.

You lifted up the pill bottle to see that it was a prescription that was made out for someone that wasn’t him. You let out a quiet whistle when you read the name of the pill, knowing this was pretty strong stuff. “Amphetamines, huh?”

“It’s the perfect antidote to that absinthe.” Cas said, his attitude was all too casual.

“Don’t get me wrong, Cas, While I’m happy the stick is out of your ass, I’m honestly starting to miss the old you. What’s going on—with the drugs and the orgies and all the love-guru crap? Last time you were around a woman and a beer, you freaked out.” You found yourself admitting to him what you missed. It’d been only two days, but you wanted everything back to normal. Cas responded with a laugh as he looked over at you with a toothy smile, acting as if what you had said was the best thing he’d ever heard. “What’s so funny?”

“Y/N, I’m not an angel anymore. I went mortal.” Cas said, you looked at him with surprise at what you were hearing. You asked him how it happened. “I think it had to do something with the other angels leaving, but when they bailed, my mojo just kind of…shhrr!—Drained away. And now, you know, I’m practically human. I mean, Y/N, I’m all but useless. Last year, broke my foot—laid up for two months.”

“So, you’re human–ish.” You said. “Well, welcome to the club.”

“Thanks. Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I’m powerless, I’m hapless, I’m hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It’s the end, baby. That’s what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the light goes out?” Cas said, giving you another perspective of his woes from how he was living his life. It seemed that he forgotten about his once shy personality. He was happy, and high as hell. “But then, that’s how I roll.”

\+ + +

Dawn was beginning to settle into the horizon when you traveled down into the ruins of another town, destroyed with no trace of another human in sight from the other handfuls you arrived with. Dean quietly walked down the muddy roads with you as his older doppelganger traveled first into the pack. You had a bad feeling about this plan since you got out of the truck. It wasn’t the idea of harming Sam, because when this was done, the reset button would be pressed and all of you were back at home, as if nothing happened. All of you traveled on foot for about an hour before Dean pointed out some tall building, that was the place where the Devil would be hiding. You crouched behind an abandoned car and peered over the hood, wanting to take a look yourself at the building after Dean examined what he could with a pair of binoculars.

"There. Second floor window. We go in there. They’ll never see us coming.” Dean instructed to his people. He handed the binoculars to Cas, but Risa didn’t seem so confident in the plan, and he could tell from the look on her face. “Trust me. Now, weapons check. We’re on the move in five.”

“Hey, uh…Dean.” You quietly got his attention by waving your arm, he looked over at you, wondering what could be so important to discuss at a time like this. You couldn’t do this anymore. You looked over at the man crouched next to you. “Can I talk to you for a second?” It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, and the other Dean didn’t seem satisfied as he watched you walk away. But you quickly made your way to a safe distance away from the crowd, and away from any possible detection of danger. “You’re lying to these people, and most importantly, to me.”

Dean gave you a look, “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I know your lying expressions. I’ve seen then too many times to count.“ You said. "You’ve been dropping hints these past few days. And you lied about Sam. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean denied what you were accusing him of.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t seem to tbe only member of your posse with some questions, so, uh, maybe I’ll just take my doubt over to them. Or…I could tell him about what you told me, about how Sam really isn’t dead.” You said. You looked over to see that Dean was standing across the way, you knew he was going to come and find out what was going on. You weren’t going to lie to him, he didn’t deserve it. Dean knew his little brother was the vessel to Lucifer. He just didn’t know one small detail. “Sam said yes. We’ll be walking into one screwed up family reunion. And while we’re on the subject, you’ve been dropping hints these past few days. There’s something else you’re not telling us.”

“Take look around you, guys. This place should be white-hot with crotes. Where are they?” Dean asked the both of you. You fell silent, they knew you were coming. “It’s a trap.”

“Well, then we can’t go through the front.” You said.

“Oh, we’re not. They are. They’re the decoys.” Dean said, he nodded his head to the group of that was patiently waiting for his cue. You found yourself staring at him with shock from every single word that was coming out of his mouth. “You, me and him—we’re going through the back.”

“You mean you’re gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too? You want to use their deaths as diversion?” Dean confronted himself, seeming to have had enough of hearing things that would never come from him. You looked over to see the younger man walk forward, having had enough of this. The torture was enough to slightly stomach, but this, it was his final breaking point of keeping quiet. “Oh, man, something’s broken in you. You’re making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn’t sacrifice my friends.”

“You’re right. Something did break in. Guess that’s what happens when your brother turns into the Devil and the woman you love becomes a friggin’ demon. I didn’t have any other options. I’m supposed to kill the Devil, save the world. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” Dean, the older version, had suddenly changed out of the man he presented himself to still be. You slowly looked down to see the colt he’d been carrying in the back of his jeans was pointed at you. “After all, you’re the reason why we’re in this mess. See, I learned a few more interesting things while I was torturing that demon. She confessed something—if I shot you, I kill him. Vice versa.”

“You…You—”

“You trying to say I’m a monster? Yeah, I am. All of us are, sweetheart. You, me, Sam. That’s one of the consequences when I said no to Michael. I’m doing things the old me would never do.” Dean remarked with a bitter smirk on his lips. He looked over at his younger self, he moved his finger to lightly press on the trigger. “What do you want, Dean? If you let those people die—you’re a villain. But, if you let me just kill Y/N, you’ll be the hero. The monster’s ganked and you’ll never had to say yes to Michael.”

"You’re one screwed up son of a bitch, that’s what you are.” Dean hissed at himself, finding his actions coming from the man disturbing. “You’re not gonna save the world like this. I’m not gonna let you.”

“Oh, really?” He replied, almost slightly amused at his younger self. “You wish.”

\+ + +

The last thing Dean could remember was a painful force to his jaw before everything went black. He slowly found himself coming back into consciousness and to what was going on around him. It took him a second to realize he was lying face down on the ground, his face buried in small pile of dead leaves that smelled faintly of wet grass. Dean slowly began to move himself to a standing position, ignoring the familiar ache in his jaw as he pushed himself to his feet. He began wiping the dirt from his hands and looked around, wondering for a second of where everyone one. But it took the split second of listening to gunfire in the distance for everything to come rushing back to him.

Dean looked high and low to see if he could find you, but there wasn’t a trace of anyone, not even a droplet of blood to confirm his biggest fear. He headed for the building and looked straight ahead, from his spot on the pavement, he watched as the second story window glowed from the shots everyone was doing just to stay alive. He had a feeling if you were around, you weren’t there. Dean looked around until he found the back entrance his other self had talked about going. He noticed a fresh trail of boot imprints into the dirt, he followed them, running fast as he could until the path went cold.

What he had arrived to was a garden, from the way it was upkept, everything around it was dead from the plants shriveled up leaves and patchy grass. Dean slowed himself to a brisk walk, his eyes darting everywhere to find out where you could have ended up, only to see that you were right in front of him. He just didn’t know it yet. The body standing in front of him was exactly like the one you had; it was the same height, same weight. But his attention found itself slowly dwindling away, for he was caught off guard to see the fate of himself, lying on the ground. Dean stared at himself straight in the eye, and with a high heel to his throat, it moved just enough until a bone crack echoed through the air, breaking his neck clean. 

It was silent for a moment. Dean heard his breathing turn into shallow breaths as the person retracted their foot, and ever so slowly, looked over their shoulder to see who it was. And Dean realized the person was you. But…it wasn’t you

You stared at him with a rather surprised look, yet you seemed casual. You were wearing a pretty black dress and paired with a set of black heels that gave you a few inches. What he couldn’t stop staring at wasn’t your eyes, all though they were black as night, that wasn’t what caught him off guard. It was the skin on your body. He noticed it was covered with scars; from bruises and cut marks, burns and other things that looked like it would hurt. Dean slowly began to realize this wasn’t you, it was your future. You were the demon that his future self tortured for answers. But you didn’t seem to hold a grudge at him, you stared at him with a smile as your eyes flickered back to normal, as if you were pleased to see him.

“Oh.” You spoke up, your eyes turning black again. “Hello, Dean.”

\+ + +

The woman standing across the grass, with a little black dress, torn and frayed in small patches, exposing skin he worshiped and touched what felt not that long ago, was now scattered with bruises and open flesh wounds. She looked like someone who had been dragged to Hell and back. But she stared at him with a sly smirk with her just bitten lips and eyes dark as her soul. She could be considered a femme fatale for how she looked alone, not to mention how she made his heartbeat rapidly beat against his ribcage at the situation that unfolded. All the torture and truth the demon told him, it was just a trick—so his stupid, future self could sink his teeth into the bait, getting him exactly where Lucifer wanted him.

Dean realized the woman he was staring at with the black eyes and bruised up body from days of torture was you. The demon you would become in five years if he continued down the path of saying no to Michael. His future self wasn’t lying. All of you would end up turning into the type of monster you feared of becoming. Dean going off the deep end and doing anything to get what he wanted. Sam saying yes to Lucifer, and you turned yourself into a demon.

“Oh my, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You complimented him with a smile, your lips stretching farther apart to show off your teeth as you blinked making your eyes go back to their normal shade. You stepped away from the body as you took a few steps forward, but still keeping your distance from him. Time felt like it moved for centuries with you staring at him, examining the man you would leave five years ago to stop Lucifer, only to join his cause for power after the man you loved turned into a hollow version of himself. “Lean, mean Dean. I’ve missed the old you. But I’m sure you’re not here to see little old me.”

Your eyes wandered away from Dean, he didn’t seem to understand what was happening, he flinched at the thought of thunder crashing from the sky as he could feel droplets of rain hitting his skin as a storm began brewing. “You’ve come a long way to see this, haven’t you?”

Dean suddenly found himself turning around when he heard someone speaking from behind. The voice was familiar, but when he made eye contact with the person, it was like being faced with the worst kind of monster he would ever deal with. He swallowed down his fears when he looked Lucifer himself straight in the eye, somehow he could easily hide the pain of seeing his little brother being worn by the Devil himself like a cheap suit.

“Well, go ahead.” Dean spoke up, and with an eerily calm voice, he gave permission to do what most monsters wanted. “Kill me.”

Lucifer’s reaction wasn’t what the Winchester expected, he almost seemed a bit amused, like it was some joke Dean said to try and impress him. He leaned over slightly to stare at the dead body of his doppleganger lying on the grass. “Don’t you think that would be a little…redundant?” He asked, not seeming to understand what he would gain if he allowed it to happen. Dean stared at him, his expression never changed, causing the Devil to sigh in grief for what he was putting the man through. “I’m sorry. It must be painful, speaking to me in this—shape. But it had to be your brother. And as for Y/N, well, it was just a matter of time until she became who she was truly meant to be.” Lucifer tried to gain the man’s trust by reaching out an arm to place his hand on Dean’s shoulder, but the hunter flinched away. “You don’t have to be afraid of us, Dean. What do you think I’m going to do?”

Dean fell silent, not answering the question just yet, he watched with close examination as Lucifer casually walked across the grass and finding the only living thing still in the garden. It was a red rose in full bloom, his fingers lightly wrapped around the stem, ignoring how the thorns pricked his skin, and with a simple tug, he ripped the living flower from its natural habitat to give as a gift. You grabbed the rose from Lucifer and lifted the petal to your nose, taking a sniff of the floral scent.

“You changed Y/N into a demon, that’s a start.“ Dean stated. Your eyes flickered over to him to see the words that came out his mouth were painful to say. You lift the flower all the way into your nose, the petals tickling your skin, but it’s his uncomfortable facial expression that made you smile in amusement.

"You say that like it’s a bad thing, Dean.” Lucifer said. “I made her stronger.”

“You turned her into something she never wanted to be.” Dean argued with him. He knew all those years of you having nightmares and your mind constantly full of fear, fighting the dangerous consequences that brought you into this world. But from the look on your face, it seemed you had settled just fine into your new lifestyle. Dean had to remind himself that this future could be changed. “And don’t forget, you want to deep-fry the planet.”

“Why? Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing? Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of God.” Lucifer spoke with passion as he examined what was left of the garden, even with the dead leaves and overgrown grass, he could find the best things about it. But Dean didn’t fall for the little show he was putting on, Lucifer knew the hunter could only see the dark side of the Devil. "You ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?”

“Oh, good God. You’re not gonna tell me a bedtime story, are you?” Dean asked, his tone was full of sarcasm. “My stomach’s almost out of bile.”

“You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything. And then God created…you. The little…hairless apes.” Lucifer’s lips twitched as he let out a soft chuckle, Dean heard a roll of thunder as the entire sky lit up from a strike of lighting. It wasn’t hard to tell he was almost disgusted with having to say the proper term, so he changed the terminology to his personal comfort. “And then he asked for all of us to bow down before you—to love you more than Him. And I said, ‘Father…I can’t.’ I said, 'These human beings are flawed, murderous.’ And for that, God had Michael cast me into Hell. I spent millennials locked in a cage because I refused. Now, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was right?”

Lucifer’s lips stretched into what appeared to be a grim smile, “But I suppose there’s a silver lining to all of this. You see, God would only allow me to be free if I could understand why he made humans. He wanted me to be anchored to a human of my own creation. So, I did. I created her.” Dean slowly felt his eyes wander over to you, who stared at him with a calm expression. “God wanted me to have something of my own? Fine. But I wasn’t about to add another useless human to the pile. I was going to create something stronger, something I could use to destroy what God made. I think it’s just…keeping with tradition of things.”

Dean knew what the Devil meant by that. Lilith was the first demon created after he was banished to the cage. She was the only one who could break the seals. And it was her death who was the reason Lucifer was free. “Lilith helped me come up with the idea of making another half human, half demon. She and Azazel worked on the outside, making sure everything went according to plan. They picked out the perfect woman. Her name was Ella, a woman who believed in God all her life. When she needed him the most, she would pray and pray for what she truly desired. But in the end, she was abandoned.”

Lucifer was the type of angel who tried to explain his reasoning with such detail, he made it seem like he had a right to be doing this, that everyone deserve to be punished because God didn’t love him any more. “He created all of you, but he ignores your desperate pleas for happiness. It turned you into murderous, vile creatures. Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing. And how many of you blame me for it?”

"You’re not fooling me. You know that? With this sympathy-for-the-devil crap. I know what you are.” Dean said. Lucifer raised his brow in curiosity, he asked the man what he was. “You’re the same thing, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I’ve been squashing my whole life—an ugly, evil, belly-to-the ground, supernatural piece of crap. You hurt innocent and vulnerable people to get what you wanted. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego.”

“I like you, Dean. I get what the other angels see in you. But you still hold resentment against me. That sort of biting at the hand who fed you, don’t you think?” Lucifer looked at the man with a twisted sort of smile, almost like he was angry at him, yet he was proud at the position of power he now has over the man. Dean watched as Lucifer walk over to you, all while keeping eye contact. Reaching out a hand, he softly brushed across your shoulder as his fingers grazed your hair, pushing it back. Dean looked away when the vessel of his brother leaned down to softly place a kiss against the crook of your neck. "I’m the reason she was put on this earth in the first place. You can love and protect her all you want until the time comes. And when it does, you will understand she’s my own creation. And mine to keep.”

Lucifer stood up as he dropped his hand back to his side, and with a final nod, he turned around to start walking away. Your eyes away from him as you twirled the rose in your finger, you dropped to the dead body of the doppelganger as a peace offering for what you had done. "You better kill me now.” Dean’s voice broke the silence, making you and Lucifer look over at him. “You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won’t stop.”

“I know you won’t.” It wasn’t Lucifer who spoke up, it was you. Dean turned his head to see that you were staring at him straight in the eye with an angered expression. “I know you won’t say 'yes’ to Michael, either. And I know you won’t kill Sam. Whatever you do…we will always end up here.” You blinked, making your eyes flicker black to prove your point to him. “Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up…here.” Your lips stretched into a smirk as you watched his eyes well up, knowing you were right. “Your baby brother becomes the devil, the woman you love turns into a demon. And your self righteous behavior tortures me like old times. Until you fall for the trap, and I kill you.”

"So, I win.” Lucifer said. Dean couldn’t help himself when he tried denying the truth as a single tear rolled down his cheek, mumbling out that the Devil was wrong. Dean would be out the way, the earth would be in shambles and you were all his. Lucifer only smirked at him, knowing well enough the hunter was smarter than how he looked. Dean saw enough to understand the consequences if he didn’t say yes. And while it would take longer, Lucifer still remained the winner.. “See you in five years, Dean.”

\+ + +

You felt like someone has ripped you away from a scene of a nightmare and dumped you straight into reality without a warning, causing you to inhale a deep breath. Your eyes shot wide open as you tried to figure out what was going on. Everything you could remember was vivid, but after you tried recollecting on when Dean pulled the colt on you, your memories changed, almost like you were watching from a third person experience. You felt yourself leaning backwards into something as your eyes darted around the room, it took a second before you realized you were in your motel room. And everything looked like how you left it five years ago, well, except for the angel standing right across from you.

“Oh, well, if it isn’t the ghost of Christmas 'screw you.’” You remarked underneath your breath.

“Enough. Y/N, enough. You saw it, right? You saw what happens.” Zachariah didn’t seem to find any of your sarcasm funny today. He wasn’t here to banter, he had an offer you couldn’t refuse. “You and I both want the Devil to be proven wrong. You’re the only one who can make Dean say 'yes.’ to Michael. He trusts you more than anything else in this world. You know you don’t want to fall for that destinity, do you? Make him say 'yes,’ we can strike and you’ll never have to worry about Lucifer getting to you or Sam. Before billions die.”

"What if I do?” You asked the hypothetical question. “What do I gain from it?”

“Paradise. When we win, you’ll be treated just as well as Dean. You’ll spend the rest of your days in blissfulness.” Zachariah offered you something that sounded too good to be true. “What do you say, Y/N? You want to join us for the greater good?”

You fell silent, making him believe you were going to take the opportunity to really think, not just from the consequences if you decide to help him. You looked over at the angel, giving him your final answer. “Nah.” You said with a shrug. “I’m good.”

”'Nah’? You think this is all just a game, don’t you, Y/N?“ Zachariah questioned you. You couldn’t help yourself when you chuckled at his shift of tone that was supposed to be frightening. When he bored holes into you, you gave him a smile. "You telling me you haven’t learned your lesson?”

“Oh, I’ve learned my lesson, all right. I learned not to take orders from angels, or anyone, for that matter. You need to learn something, buddy. I am not a piece in this game you’re trying to play with the Devil. I am a human being.” You hissed at him, using all your frustration over the past few days as ammunition to stand up to Zachariah. “Try all you want. Put me through your little mind games and try to make me your puppet. But I will never tell Dean to say yes. I’d rather spend a hundred years in Hell again than do anything for you.”

“Well, I’ll just have to refresh your memory!” Zachariah wasn’t having your attitude. He was at his wit’s end with you, and from the tone of his voice, he was getting arrogant into thinking he had you backed into a corner. “Because I got you now, Y/N, and I’m never letting you—”

Before you could hear Zachariah finish his threat, you felt everything turn black, and the same sensation you had felt before coming back into your present washed over you. When you opened your eyes, you slowly recognized how it was much colder, and there wasn’t as much light as before. You slowly propped an eye open to see that you were standing outside and at the edge of an empty highway. and not in the motel room. You looked over to see Dean right next to you with the same surprised expression, but your focus quickly went over to the angel standing on your right.

Your lips stretched into a smile at seeing him in that stupid trench coat, you chuckled lightly to yourself with relief. "That’s pretty nice timing, Cas.”

“We had an appointment.” Cas replied, sharing a smile himself.

You couldn’t help yourself but indulge into the feeling of happiness at the moment. You took a step forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. At first the angel was caught off guard, unsure of what you were doing, but after Dean chuckled to himself, he instructed Cas to wrap his arms around your waist and enjoy the rare moment of peace.

“Don’t ever change, Cas.” You told him with a genuine warmth in your tone. It was funny how a year ago you and him were nearly clawing each other’s throats out, now you felt like he was one of the most important people in your lives. And he was, because he was willing do just about anything for you and the boys. “Just…don’t.”

You pulled away after a moment, satisfied to share at least show him how much you cared for him. And after what he done, it was clear he did for you, too. “How did Zachariah find the both of you?”

“Long story. Let’s just stay away from Jehovah’s witnesses from now on, okay?” Dean gave the both of you a piece of advice. You looked down to see that he’d fetched his phone from his pocket, and with quick hands, he was typing in a number. You asked him what he was doing, wondering what the rush was all about. “I’m doing something I should have done in the first place.”

And that was calling Sam.

\+ + +

It might have taken all night, but you and Dean made it before him. You leaned against the Impala and watched in the near distance as the car Sam had stolen slowly come into view, driving forward to the both of you. After spending too long apart, all of you were finally back together. You felt giddy at the idea of the three of you back on the road for old time’s sake. All of you needed a sense of normalcy, and if you did learn anything, you couldn’t go through this journey alone. You pushed yourself to a standing position as you saw the car stop at least a few dozen feet away from the Impala. A few seconds later, the driver’s side door opened, revealing the burly and too tall of a man, Sam Winchester. You hadn’t seen him in almost a few months, but the last conversation you had with him was in the middle of the night after being visited by the Devil himself. He hesitantly stood next to the car, unsure of what to do next.

Dean was the first one to make a move, he walked forward to his little brother, trying to act as if the both of them were trying to act as if nothing was wrong. The older Winchester pulled out the demon knife from his jacket by the handle, but before he made his decision, he contemplated for a moment or so, until he handed the knife over to his brother. “If you’re serious and you want back in, you should hang on to this. I’m sure you’re rusty.” Dean used the knife as a peace offering, Sam hesitantly grabbed it and felt what it was like to have this back in his possession after so long. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I don’t know. I’m…whatever I need to be. But I was wrong.”

“What made you change your mind?” Sam asked his older brother.

“Long story.” Dean said. He let out a soft chuckle as he looked over at you, the both of you would tell Sam about the crazy adventure. But that was for another time. “The point is, maybe we are each other’s achilles’s heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other. I don’t know. I just know that we’re all we’ve got. More than that. We keep the human part of us in tact.”

Sam listened to everything his brother had said, it made the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders feel a little less heavy. "Thank you.” He mumbled to his brother for the opportunity he thought would never come again. “Really. Thank you. I won’t let you two down.”

“Oh, I know. I mean, you are the second-best hunter on the planet.” Dean complimented the man, making the three of you smile at the break of tension. “Y/N almost beat you. She’s been kicking a lot of ass while you were gone. But I still say she’s the…third best hunter we know?”

You lightly hit in the side from his comment, your lips stretching into father of a smile. Sam found himself chuckling at the banter between you and his brother, he didn’t realize he missed seeing it until right now. But the mood slowly shifted back when a question came into his mind, “What do we do now?”

“We make our own future.” You answered for him.

Sam nodded his head in agreement, “Guess we have no choice.”

He was right. All of you didn’t have much of an opportunity left to tweak this plan to your own personal comfort. This was the fight of your life. It was either sink, grab the hand that will help pull you to safety, or swim for your life. You were choosing to go against the tide and put everything you had to do the right thing. But you glanced over at the brothers and found yourself staring at them for a while, slowly, you began to realize they were back together for good.

“All I care about right now is that my boys are back together. We need to celebrate accordingly.” You said, deciding to move this back to the Impala. The brothers looked over at one another, each of them gave each other a smile at the title, knowing well enough you had been put through an emotional rollercoaster yourself. You opened up the backseat door and leaned yourself against it, but before you hopped in, you looked at the boys. “One thing that I have to get off my mind. If you two ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll be the best hunter in the world. You two owe me a freaking drink after this.”

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

The boys could spend weeks or months apart, but somehow, it was natural to see the both of them fall back into old patterns so quickly. You stared at them from the backseat to see they were fighting over who was going to pay for the first round, and with a fight, you heard the infamous “Bitch, jerk” routine after they realized what they had done. You leaned against the seat and let out a sigh of relief. It was good to be back in your own time period, surrounded by people you loved the most. For all you care, the Devil could go screw himself. You don’t belong to anyone but yourself, and the only decisions you were going to make was for your own benefit. That’s for sure.


	5. Fallen Idols.

It’s been three weeks since everything had gone back to normal with life on the road now that Sam was here to stay. You were happy to shift back to old habits that you’d adapted to after almost five years on the road with the brothers. The smallest things you had grown to miss when Sam was away like sitting in the backseat of the Impala and having your own room without feeling guilty when you wanted privacy. Not to mention having someone around who actually liked doing research. You were happy that the boys were back on speaking terms, all though things were still a bit rocky at times, you were starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel for the both of them to start patching up their relationship. All of you had something to focus on for almost the past month to keep everyone focused, it was the search of finding the missing colt Cas had reassured you it was still out there in one piece. The struggle was trying to find out where the demons had moved it after Lilith got her hands on it.

The colt had a rough history with you and the boys over the past several years. You first obtained the gun when John was still alive, his quest to find the colt started way back to kill Yellow Eyes. Only before he could get his revenge, John sold his soul and the gun to bring Dean back from the dead after a near fatal crash almost took his life. You gotten it back a year later when Yellow Eyes used it to open the gates of Hell, and then Dean used it to kill the demon once and for all. But with one bullet left, you had no more ammunition to use it anymore. Then there was the messy history with Ruby and her fixing it for you, all before Bela stole it from you before you could use it on Lilith. It was a grueling and bumpy that lead to right here, where the trail was growing cold, and you needed something else to focus your attention on without a demon or an angel attached.

“Do you know how happy I am to be back on an actual hunt?” You asked the boys from the backseat of the Impala. Dean sat in the driver’s side as all of you drove down an empty road in the middle of the night, Sam silently sat in the passenger seat with his focus staring out the window. You overlooked the case file you put together to refresh your memory as you held a flashlight to help you read in the dark. “The team’s back together.”

“So,” Sam quietly chuckled to himself at your enthusiasm about taking another case after what felt like forever. He cranked his neck to look over his shoulder and over at you, wondering what could have been so important that it needed to pull you away from searching for the colt. “What’s with this job?”

“A man suffers from a head-on collusion in a parked car.” You said, briefly explaining what you knew to the younger Winchester. “Dean and I think it’s worth checking out.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Sam agreed with you. “Uh, but we got bigger problems, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure the apocalypse and the Devil will still be there when we get back, Sammy.” You said with a too much causal of a tone for his personal understanding. You glanced up to see that he was still looking over his shoulder, almost as if he was expecting to hear a different response from you.

“Right, yeah, But, I mean, if the colt is really out there somewhere—”

Sam tried to change your reasoning, knowing well enough he thought you hadn’t exhausted all your searches for the past several weeks. You dropped your hands into your lap and gave him an annoyed look from the conversation that he was almost absentmindedly turning into an argument, and didn’t help when Dean cut his little brother off before he could finish his thought.

“Yeah, we’ve been looking for three weeks.” Dean said. “We got bupkus.”

“Yeah. But, guys,” Sam trailed off for a second, trying to bring his point across very subtle as possible without stepping on anyone’s toes. “I mean, if we’re gonna ice the devil—”

“This is what we’re doing, okay? End of discussion.” Dean said, stopping any sort of wiggle room for a chance to change to continue the argument. Sam wasn’t exactly pleased at being cut off for the second, and only to be followed by his brother trying to control the discussion as usual. He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes in frustration, settling his attention once more on the open road. You turned off the flashlight and shut the file, deciding it was best if you let the conversation die off at this point. But Dean kept it alive, trying his hardest to softball a more calmer approach than being his usual abrasive self. “It’s just that this is our first real case back at it together. You know, I think we ought to ease into it, put the training wheels back on.”

Sam nodded his head, thinking what his brother said was a passive insult directed at him, “So you think I need training wheels?”

“No. Out of anyone who needs the training wheels, it’s the two of you. If we want any chances of surviving this thing, you guys need to put the ‘function’ back in dysfunction.” You jumped into the conversation before Dean could say something. “The case was my idea. I think it’s the right thing to do. It gives all of a chances for a fresh start, okay? Baby steps. That’s all I’m asking.”

You didn’t exactly the terms of how Sam and Dean left when they departed ways a few months ago. But you knew enough to realize that Dean didn’t trust his little brother, and there was still resentment for how Sam was being treated like a stranger from his own flesh and blood. Both brothers agreed to the terms and finally allowed the conversation to come to a close, making any noise in the Impala drop to a complete silence. You let out a faint sigh as you dropped yourself to the backseat, deciding sleeping until you arrived to the new motel would be the best way to spend your time over the next few hours.

\+ + +

You and the boys arrived at the Canton police station in the morning after settling into a motel and changing into your usual formal gear. A case like this didn’t seem much of a heavy task to handle, it was probably something to do with a ghost that was the cause of this. With your luck it was probably nothing more than just a simple salt and burn, then you’d be off chasing whatever trail Cas came up with over the next few days. You would take just about anything to get yourself back into the swing of hunting that wasn’t for the colt.

"My name is Agent Jackson.” You introduced yourself to the sheriff behind the desk, showing off your fake badges that made the middle aged man believe you were FBI. You nodded your head to the side, addressing the brothers who stood next to you. “These are my partners, Agent Bonham and Copeland.”

“Rick Carnegie. Good to know you.” The sheriff put out his hand in front of you for you to shake. It seemed he had a feeling he knew why you and the boys were here, while he would have loved the help of an extra set of hands, it seemed this case was closed. “So you’re here on the account of Cal Hopkins’ death? Well, afraid you came a long way for nothing. We already booked the guy that did it.”

Sam looked at the man with a baffled expression, he wasn’t expecting to hear the information like you and his brother. “I’m sorry. Who do you think did it?”

Sheriff Carnegie lead you and the brothers into a conference room to discuss the matters of Hopkins and his, as of yesterday, homicide case in a bit more of a private setting. You took a seat as the boys followed behind, taking one next to each other as all of you watched the sheriff set up a video camera he took out from an evidence bag and hooked it up to a wire connected to the TV. The sheriff pulled up footage that was recorded on the day of the accident, but it took you a second to realize the person filming was also recording the crime as it unraveled. 

“Hey, you all right, man? I thought I heard something.” You heard the person holding the camera speak as they traveled from whatever part of the house to the garage where Cal Hopkins was found. You furrowed your brow when you saw the sight transition to the bloody sight of Cal leaning against the windshield, his cheek was resting against the broken fragments of what was left as he sat in the driver’s side. You winced at the sight you had only heard about from the newspaper articles you managed to find. If Cal knew he would only get his head brutally bashed into his expensive porsche that set him back at least over fifty thousand dollars, maybe he would have a thought twice and you wouldn’t be here right now. “Oh my God, Cal? Cal!?”

The footage cut out after that, turning the screen into static. Sheriff reached up an arm and pressed the power button on the remote, making the TV shut off. He shook his head at what he’d witnessed again before looking over at you and the boys. It seemed he gotten a different perspective of what you had witnessed from his commentary on the matter. “Sicko taped his own handiwork.” Sheriff Carnegie said. Neither you or the boths followed from the accusation, prompting the man to elaborate more on his professional opinion. “It was Jim Grossman that killed Cal. He was the only one on the scene for miles.”

You furrowed your brow from the sheriff’s accusation, “I thought they were best friends.”

“Most violent crimes are committed by someone close to the victim.” The sheriff said.

“I understand that,” You agreed with what he said. If Jim was the type of person that wanted his best friend dead, it could be plausible to see him bashing in the other man’s skull in the windshield. But the autopsy told a bit of a different story that lead you and the boys here in the first place. “But how exactly did Jim slam Cal into a windshield with all the force of an eighty-mile-per-hour crash?”

“Drugs, maybe?” Sheriff Carnegie presumed. Your fingers curled into a fist as you glanced away, trying your hardest not to make a remark, much as you wanted to. You looked over at the boys to see they were taken back from the answer as you were. “Look, you know this ain’t brain surgery, kids. Whatever it looks like, that’s what it usually is. It’s simple.”

“Right.” Sam said. He tapped his hand against the table and gave the man a nod. If life were really that simple, you and a lot more people would be out of a job. “Um, if you don’t mind, we’d like to speak to Jim Grossmann anyway.”

Lucky for the three of you, Jim Grossmann was just down the hall in one of the interrogation rooms being held for questioning before they were going to decide on formally charging him. Before the man’s life could be destroyed for a crime he didn’t commit, you and the boys decided to get the man’s perspective of the night to see what really happened.

“I was in the house when it happened.” Jim explained what he could remember about the night, but it wasn’t much more new information that could declare his innocence. “I didn’t even see it.”

“And for argument’s sake,” Dean stood up for the conversation, leaving you and his little brother to sit opposite of the man at the table. “Say we believe you.”

“Why would you?” Jim asked. “The cops didn’t.”

“We’re not your typical cops.” Dean remarked to the older man.

“Please,” Sam reassured him, “just tell us what you saw.”

“It’s not what I saw. It’s what I heard. Tires squealing, glass breaking. It was the car that did it.“ Jim admitted, a sigh falling out from his mouth a few seconds later after he recollected on the memory once more. You and the boys looked at the man with a confused expression, wondering what he meant by his accusation. "I mean, I heard about the curse, but I thought it was a load of crap.”

“Curse?” You asked him. “What do you mean, curse?”

“The car.” Jim said, speaking a name of an infamous legend. “Little Bastard.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up from what he heard, “Little Bastard. As in the Little Bastard?”

“Wait,” Sam jumped into the conversation, being the only one who didn’t know the significance of the name. “What’s Little Bastard?”

“It’s James Dean’s car.” You explained to the younger Winchester, you looked over at him with a growing smile that started to curl at the end of your lips. You’d dealt with a lot of cases over the years. But knowing that you could be working on the actual porsche that once belonged to an actor that starred in a few of your favorite movies from the old Hollywood era, you suddenly felt like this could be one of the most interesting hunts to date. “It’s the one that he was killed in.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Cal had been looking for it for years. I mean, hell, we both had.” Jim explained to the three of you. You could see the events that had unraveled over the past few days slowly cross the man’s face. All though his friend had gotten the car he’d always dreamed of owning, it seemed that he dodged a dance with death. “But he found it first.”

Dean couldn’t help himself but become overwhelmed with excitement at what he was hearing. He leaned down to place his hand on the back of your chair, only to insert himself between you and his brother, deciding to take control of where this case would go. “Oh, we are definitely checking this out.”

\+ + +

The “Little Bastard” was not just another car; it was a 550 Spyder porsche with a silver coating, the added touches Jame Dean personally asked for was the infamous words to be painted on the trunk and the number “130” plastered just about everywhere on the car. Not to mention the tartan seats and two red stripes over the rear wheels, this was something you’d never seen before. You’d never been much of a fan for cars, but when you stepped into the garage at the police station where they were storing it, you found yourself admiring the small details of a legend that had been looming around Hollywood for over fifty years. The porsche innocently sat in the middle of the garage, looking almost as it did with its original owner. Dean carefully began to make his way forward to the car, you could see the astonishment and admiration for the porsche clear on his face. Sam, however, didn’t seem to know what the fuss was all about.

“So, what,” Sam followed the both of you deeper into the garage with his hands shoved into his dress pockets. He observed the car without much thought, his attention was pulled to the cracked windshield, noting Cal Hopkins’ dried blood still remained on the glass. “This is like 'Christine’?”

“No. 'Christine’ is fiction.” Dean corrected his younger brother, knowing Stephen’s infamous novel about a car being taken over by supernatural forces wasn’t the case here. What you were dealing with was much different than what the horror writer himself could think of. “This—This is real.”

“Okay.” Sam said. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, after James Dean died, his mechanic brought the wreckage, and he fixed it up. It repaid him by falling on him. Parts of the car were sold to Troy McHenry and William Eschrid, only that didn’t work out in their favor. Troy was killed when he lost control, William was seriously injured. And don’t get me started on the thieves who tried stealing some of the parts, one of them got their arm ripped off. It was brutal.” You explained the history of the car, all while keeping a safe distance away. “I mean, death follows this car around like exhaust. Nobody touches it and comes away in one piece. Funny thing was, George Barris, the one who customized the car for James Dean, tried hiding it away. But it vanished off the back of a tuck, never to be seen again. Well, until now.”

“I’m telling you, man. If this—if this car is Little Bastard,” Dean spoke up, taking one last inspection of the car. “I will bet you dollars to doughnuts it’s what killed the guy.”

“So, how do we find out?” Sam asked the both of you, giving you the next problem.

“Well, Cal matched the vin number, but the only real way to know is the engine number. Which conveniently, is on the engine.” You muttered the last part underneath your breath. You let out a quiet sigh as you placed your hands on your hips, wondering to yourself of how all of you could do this without getting hurt. When you glanced upwards from the car, you noticed that Dean was staring at you, with the type of expression that made you smile slightly. “Surprisingly, I know more than just supernatural lore. And I actually do listen when you talk about cars, Dean.”

“And as if I couldn’t love you anymore than I do, Y/N.” Dean accidentally found himself admitting out in the open. It seemed that he was impressed at your knowledge, and the added touch of the engine number was a bonus for him. You raised your brows as Sam chuckled quietly at his brother’s reaction, causing Dean to break out from his personal thoughts. He quickly got himself to focus again when he realized what he’d said. "Okay. I’m gonna go find us a tire jack.”

You nodded your head as you watched him scurry away to find something that would lift up the car at least a foot so one of you could slip underneath the car. Dean managed to find a tire jack, and with Sam’s help, the boys lifted up the car just enough for someone to get this started. After fetching a pencil and a scrap of paper, you and the boys stood next to the car, wondering who was going to bite the bullet. All of you shedded your jackets and rolled up your sleeves, unsure of who was going to get the dangerous task. You offered to write down the number since you were the shortest of them both, only for it to be shot down just a second later after you suggested it.

“You want me to do it?” Sam asked, his brother shook his head.

“No. No, no, I’ve g—I’ve got it.” Dean muttered, deciding he would be the one to do it since he was the one most knowledgeable about cars. He took a deep breath, all before making the steps to the car. He thought talking to the porsche like he did with the Impala might help make this situation go smooth. “Okay, baby, I’m not gonna hurt you, so…don’t hurt me.”

Dean grabbed the pencil and piece of paper from your hands before lowering him down to the creeper, where he laid on his back. He took a moment to inhale what might be his last breath before rolling himself backwards until he was exactly underneath the car. This wasn’t the first time underneath a car, he’d fixed up the Impala too many times to count. But being under a cursed porsche that didn’t leave any survivors to tell the tale, and the only mercy the car had shown was leaving some seriously injured, Dean nervously swallowed when his eyes found the engine number. He took the pencil out of his mouth and got himself mentally prepared to do the task, but before he could, he froze in place when he heard metal creaking all around him. Dean’s eyes instantly jumped to the jack, wondering if it was going to give out any second, but it remained securely in place.

“Need a flashlight?”

Your unexpected voice caught him off guard, Dean jumped in nervousness as he quickly looked over to his left to see what was going on. You were lying on the ground and peeking your head down to see if he was okay. “No. Don’t do anything. Just go away.” Dean instructed to you with a harsh tone. You were a bit baffled at his command, but even hearing your voice sent his nervous aggravation through the wall. “Don’t speak, all right? In fact, don’t even look at her. She might not like it.”

You were a bit taken back from what he was asking of, but you listened, going back to a standing position, leaving Dean alone to concentrate. Dean waited a few seconds, gathering the scraps of his courage before finally getting himself to lift up his arms to finish this task. But again he heard it, the metal creaking, almost as if the car knew what he was doing. Dean couldn’t chicken out anymore, he decided to play with fate when he placed the paper against the engine number, and when nothing happened, he quickly sketched out the number quick as he could go. When he gotten was needed, Dean quickly rolled himself out and jumped to his feet, joining you and his brother. You stared at him with a concerned expression when you noticed he looked a little flustered, Dean handed you the piece of paper, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Find out who owned it. Not just the last owner—you got to take it all the way back to 1955.” Dean instructed to you. You raised your brow in frustration at the load of research he was putting on you when you made a remark about it. “Well, aren’t you happy Sam’s back? I guess I just made both of your afternoons.”

\+ + +

Most of the afternoon had drifted off to the early evening when you found the exact owner of the car with Sam’s much needed help. It wasn’t easy to track through over fifty years of history, the task was grueling and, at times, tedious. But you found the information what you were looking for. You pushed aside the vast amount of papers that were spread around the table until you found your cell phone buried underneath a few old newspaper articles. You found Dean’s number and decided to call him to let him know about the news you discovered not too long ago. Not even two rings later, Dean answered his phone when he noticed it was you.

“Hey, took me and Sammy a while, but we traced all of the car’s previous owners.” You said to him, pushing yourself out of your seat so you could stretch out your legs. Dean asked if any of them happened to die bloody, wondering if it matched the infamous history. “Nope, In fact—” You were about to tell him the news you found out, but you stopped when you heard what sounded like a game of pool in the background. You furrowed your brow in frustration, he said he was going to be tracking down a lead of his own. "Dean, are you in a bar?”

“No, I'm—I’m in a restaurant…” Dean denied the accusation, but he was quickly ratted out when you heard a female voice speak something about giving him a beer. You scoffed loud enough for him to hear at the other end. “…That happens to have a bar.”

“I can’t believe you, Dean.” You said. “Sam and I have been working our asses off here.”

“Hey, world’s smallest violin, sweetheart.” Dean argued with you, thinking this was a competition to show off who was right here. “I spent the afternoon up Christine’s skirt. I needed a drink.”

“Actually, you didn’t. Turns out, we’re not dealing with what we thought.” You explained to him. You walked over to the table and shuffled through a few papers, all before pulling out a grainy newspaper article showing the obituary of the knock off car. “The car’s first owner was a cardiologist in Philadelphia—drove it till he died in 1972. Sadly, this concludes the porsche is not, nor has it ever been, James Dean’s car. It’s a fake Little Bastard.”

“Well, then, what was it that killed the guy?” Dean asked.

You let out a sigh from the puzzling thought, you let go of the piece of paper, watching as it slowly drifted into the air, all before falling back down to the table. This might not have been what you once thought it was, but it didn’t you were going to quit on the hunt. It means the job had only gotten harder for the three of you. “Good question.”

\+ + +

Almost all of the cases you worked on usually didn’t involve just one body count, there was always one or two more that followed suit, and when you woke up this morning, this hunt would be no different. You and the brothers headed down to another crime scene when you gotten the details of a man being shot in his home. The typical red flags were seen with all the doors and windows locked, a typical sign for a spirit as the monster for the cause of all of this, but that was only the tip of the iceberg for this strange case. You headed inside to the house of the victim, noticing the driveway was packed full of a few squad cars and the medical examiner rolling out the victim. Dodging the forensic team and a few other cops, you walked into the victim’s office to see the crime scene itself. The first thing you noticed when you stepped inside was the wall to the right of the door, everything was covered in a fine splatter of blood, not to mention the floorboards being covered with it.

Sheriff Carnegie stood next to the mess, instructing his crew as a woman photographed for evidence they could review later to find their invisible killer. “I want you to use a fine-tooth comb. The evidence is here. Just got to find it.”

You made yourself noticed when you heard the sheriff speak, and from the tone of his voice, he was confused himself at what was going on. When you made eye contact with him, you gave the man a polite smile and headed over to him. "Heard you got another weird one.”

“Well, it’s a—it’s a little strange on the surface,” Sheriff Carnegie ushered you and the boys out to the hallway for a bit more of a private setting to speak. It seemed the man was trying to downplay the situation as something more on the logical side of things he could document without anyone questioning his authority. “I admit, but you know, once you look at the facts…”

“William Hill died from a gunshot wound to the head. No gun, no gunpowder, no bullet.” Sam said, giving you the exact reason why the three of you were here in the first place.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and made a remark to the sheriff, “Nope. Nothin’ strange about that.”

Sheriff Carnegie sighed to himself, knowing for damn sure there was something out of the ordinary going on here, but he remained to be professional than admitting his own personal theory. “Well, there’s got to be a reasonable explanation. There always is.”

“Well,” You spoke up, deciding to take a crack at what the man thought what might be going on. It was always helpful when somebody laughed off the idea that it could have been more of a supernatural being that caused this, it made breaking the news a whole lot easier. “What’s your reasonable explanation?”

The sheriff fell silent for a moment, you watched as he cautiously glanced around the room, as if he scoping out an eavesdropper, but everyone remained diligently working. You looked back at the cop when he leaned forward slightly to give you his theory, “Professional killer.”

You furrowed your brow, “Come again?”

“CIA, NSA, one of them trained assassins—like in ‘Michael Clayton.’” Sheriff Carnegie explained more for his outlandish answer. You found yourself looking over at the boys for a split second, all of you sharing the same expression of bafflement from what you weren’t expecting to hear. “You’re welcome to look around, but—but these guys don’t leave fingerprints.”

You’ve heard a lot of weird things over the past several years of hunting, but this had to take the top spot. You stopped yourself from playing more into this game, knowing asking a question about how he thought the bullet went missing would only cause for him to get angry. So, you decided to move onto more important topics to help move things along. “Mind if we talk with the witness?”

“Oh, be my guest. She’s not making any sense.” The sheriff said. hopeful someone could figure out what she was trying to say. You found yourself letting out a quiet sigh from the next thing that he mentioned. “And she’s not making any sense in spanish, either.”

You were told the witness was outside, speaking to one of the cops who knew a little bit of the language until they could find someone fluent enough to help figure out what the poor woman was saying. You ducked underneath the police tape and headed down the porch steps to find the witnesses. From the panicked female voice and a string of unfamiliar words, you spotted her sitting on a bench just a few feet from the house, trying her hardest to explain what she had saw to the officer. Unfortunately, due to the language barrier, it seemed nobody was making much progress. You slipped a hand inside your pocket when you began approaching the both of them, you pulled out your badge and showed it to the officer, but your attention was focused on the woman.

“Consuela Alvarez?” You addressed the witness by her name. When she look up at you and answered with yes, you gave her a friendly smile. “FBI. Mind if we speak to you for a moment?”

The officer took his cue to leave, allowing the three of you and Consuela to have a private conversation. “Now,” Dean started off the conversation as he put away his badge. “You said you saw something in the professor’s house. Right? Something in the window.”

“Estaba sacando la basura. Imiré por la ventana y vi al hombre que mató al Señor Hill!” Consuela sobbed out, retelling the details with hysteria.

The boys realized the situation might be more troublesome than they once thought, but you could understand some of what she was trying to say. You took a seat next to the woman, trying to properly communicate with her in her native tongue best as you could. “Uh, Señora Alvarez. Cálmese, por favor.” You ushered to be calm, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze to reassure everything would be okay. You quickly found yourself freezing up, unsure of what the proper way to phrase your question, until it came right back to you. “Uh, díganos lo que vio?”

Dean’s lips stretched into a smile at what you were able to do, “Nice.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “My mom made me take a foreign language each summer when I was in high school. Spanish was one of them.“

“Era alto. Muy alto.” Consuela said, giving you a description of what she saw. “Y llevaba el abrigo negro largo y tenía bigotes.”

“Okay, uh, a tall man, very tall. With a long black coat and a—” You looked over at the boys for a second when you tried translating the information Consuela had given you. When you found yourself in a bit of a bind, you looked over at the woman, gesturing with your hand, you pretended to stroke your chin for her to understand, knowing sign language was universal. “A beard? Beard, okay.”

“Y un sombrero.“ Consuela added.

"Dude was wearing a sombrero?” Dean asked, you rolled your eyes from his presumption.

“No, no, no.” Consuela said, correcting the man with a hand gesture, showing that she was talking about more clearly. “Un sombrero alto.”

“A tall hat?” You asked her, she nodded her head. “Sort of like a top hat?”

“Un sombrero alto!” Consuela tried again to explain what she had saw. She brought up her arm to gesture how high the hat was, she had to stretch her arm far as it could go to try and give a better example of what all of you could understand. “Muy alto!”

“What, you mean a—like a stovepipe hat.” Dean said, seeming to understand what Consuela was trying to say. He imitated what she had done to be correct, and she nodded her head again. “Oh yeah, like Abraham Lincoln.”

You shrugged your shoulders when the brothers began to look a bit confused at what he had to do with anything, but Consuela started sobbing again, for he was what she had saw. “Si. El Presidente Lincoln.” Consuela confirmed that what she saw standing outside the window was the sixteenth president. With what english she could speak, she admitted the truth to the three of you. “Abraham Lincoln killed Mr. Hill.” You tried your hardest to keep a straight face from what you heard, but you had at least a decent lead to start with. “S-So I go home now?”

“Uh, si.” You said, giving her a small smile and a nod. “Gracias.”

Consuela gave you a smile as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, she pushed herself to her feet and began walking away. You let out a sigh from the possibility of having the spirit of a dead president be the spirit you were going up against. You dealt with the ghost of the most infamous serial killers of all time, you thought it wouldn’t be weird to add a movie star and president to the list. But you couldn’t help to think that this job pushed your limits sometimes of what you least expect to see.

“So, you know about cars and you speak spanish.” Dean said. You looked over at him to see that he was a bit impressed at what he was learning about you. “What else can you do?”

“Je connais aussi le français et,“ You said, shrugging your shoulders from what you could remember from your teenage days that felt like a lifetime ago. "Ein bisschen deutsch. But Latin was my main language I took in school.”

Dean nodded his head, pretending as if he understood one word you just said. You looked over at Sam, the both of you snickering ever so slightly. You pushed yourself to your feet when it was decided there wasn’t much more of a reason to be at the crime scene. You had the bigger task of figure out why the ghosts of two famous people were haunting this little small town.

\+ + +

You and the boys spent most of the afternoon shacked up in the motel, quietly dividing your attention to figuring out what was going on. Dean busied himself with reviewing the footage Jim Grossmann had recorded to try and see if he could find anything useful. You busied yourself by searching on why William Hill was murdered exactly the way Lincoln was, Sam did a bit more research on Cal Hopkins. While the both of you worked diligently to find out some answers, Dean seemed to have better luck, he found something in the video that caught his attention. He paused the video for a second, but it took a few frame by frame of the video again to see what he had spotted. You glanced up from your laptop when you heard Dean scoff from his discovery, you noticed it was something good when he turned around the computer for you and his brother.

“Here’s a freeze-frame from Jim Grossman’s video.” Dean said. You leaned forward in your seat when you noticed the video was stopped exactly at the tires, the hubcap to be exact. You squinted slightly when you spotted something red in the reflection, but with further inspection, you wondered why it looked familiar to you. “Am I crazy, or does that look like James Dean?”

Sam stared at the screen for a second, but it seemed he could see the exact same shadow his brother had when he realized the red must have been the actor’s famous jacket he had worn in the movie, Rebel Without a Cause. “That looks like James Dean.”

“So, we got Abraham Lincoln and James Dean. Famous ghosts?” Dean presumed this was what you were dealing with. You shrugged your shoulders, mumbling a maybe as you got back to reading the information you pulled up. “Well, that’s just silly.”

“No, actually, uh, there’s a ton of lore on famous ghosts. More than the, you know, not famous kind.” Sam said. “I’m actually surprised we haven’t run into one before.”

“Yeah, but now we got two of them?” Dean asked. “Two extremely pissed-off ghosts?”

“Who are apparently killing off their fans.” You muttered underneath your breath, seeming to have found the breakthrough you spent all afternoon searching for. Dean gave you a confused look, wondering what you meant by that. “Professor Hill was a civil war nut. He dug Lincoln. And I’m presuming Cal must have been a James Dean freak. I mean, he spent seventeen years of his life tracking down the guy’s car.”

"So, you’re saying that we’ve got two super-famous, super-pissed-off ghosts killing their super fans?” Dean presume this is where the case was going. You shrugged your shoulders, thinking it was the only explanation as your attention drifted back down to your laptop. “Well, that is muchos loco.”

“Muy.” You corrected the older Winchester, lightly chuckling at the accidental misconception. “Not 'muchos.’”

“Yeah, well, the big question is,” Dean changed the subject, deciding he wasn’t in the mood for a spanish lesson today. “What the hell are they doing here?”

“Ghosts usually haunt the places they lived.” Sam said, agreeing with his brother. “I mean, I get Abraham Lincoln at the white house.”

“And James Dean at a racetrack, but the hell are they doing here in Canton?” You asked, wondering what could have been attaching the spirits so far from home. You clicked out of your tabs for a brand new one, deciding to get to the bottom of this yourself. You didn’t exactly know where to start, that was the problem. You spent about a half an hour searching most of the local websites, trying to find some connection between both spirits, all though it might have taken a while, you finally found a common ground. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Dean asked you from the other side of the room. He was leaning against the counter, nursing a drink to pass the time. Sam got up from his seat as Dean began wandering forward, both of them curious to see what you found. When they leaned over your shoulder to read the website you had found, each of them shared the same response as you did. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

\+ + +

The connection between James Dean and Abraham Lincoln was one you’d least expect, it was the Canton wax museum. You and the boys headed over when you found out both of the famous legends happened to be part of the collection. You were never a personal fan of statues, and being in a room full of famous dead people and their wax doppelgangers, your nose scrunched slightly in discomfort. The first floor when you walked in was dedicated to famous figures from around the world, along with a small part dedicated to a few of the famous presidents, Abraham Lincoln happened to be one of them. You stood in front of the wax figure, taking notice of the impeccable detail, and how exactly the artist had gotten his extremely tall frame. You looked over to see that Sam had wandered over to take a look for himself, you noticed he was almost exactly the same height as him, the Winchester was taller.

“Dude, he’s short.”

You looked over your shoulder to see that Dean was inspecting the wax figure of famous Gandhi, glasses and all. You found yourself accidentally snickering at how drastic the height difference was. Sam, however, didn’t seem to think it was funny. “Hey. Gandhi was a great man.”

“Yeah, for a smurf.” Dean remarked, keeping the comment underneath his breath. You couldn’t help yourself but let a small smile grow across your lips as you began wandering around the room again, curious to see if there was any other sort of exhibits around. You quietly passed a few more, until you spotted something that caught your intrest. You inspected what you could, curious to see what was going to come of it. Dean headed over to see what you were staring at, but when he read the sign, he scoffed to himself. “Really? A whole floor dedicated to women? Well, put a couple of photos of Marilyn Monroe and those old Bond girls in bikinis and I’ll be the first one in line.”

“Hmm, we could. Considering Marilyn Monroe helped push the idea of different idealistic styles for a woman’s body. And the Bond girls showed women were more than just props for boys to drool over. They could be seductive, yet kick a man’s ass.” You commented, looking away from the few photographs they had displayed. You pointed a finger at a black and white photograph of four women standing outside with a banner, which so happened to be displayed right next to it. “I mean, if you want to talk about ladies who should be put apart of this, let’s talk about Alice Paul. She’s one of the

faces that shaped America for women that people rarely talk about.”

Dean furrowed his brow from the unfamiliar name, only proving your point from his question, "Who?”

“Oh, sorry to keep you waiting. This is our busiest time of the year.” A voice coming from across the room brought your attention to the staircase, you noticed right away it was the owner you had talked to on the phone. He greeted you and the boys with a friendly smile as you approached him. But the remark of it being busy made you look around, only to see this entire place was a ghost town. “W-Well, not right now. But it’s early. So, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we are writing a piece for Travel magazine.” Sam said, starting off the conversation.

“Yeah,” Dean continued, “on how to totally non-sucky wax museums are.”

The owner seemed delighted at the offer, “That’s fantastic! A little press—just what we need.”

“Great, well, we’re interested in a few of your exhibits,” You said, “Specifically Abraham Lincoln and James Dean.”

“Two of our most popular displays.” He said, you noticed he turned his head to look at Abraham.

“Oh, yeah?” You asked, pretending to be curious. “So they bring in a lot of visitors?”

“Yeah,” The owner said. “we have our regulars.”

“I don’t suppose that William Hill and Cal Hopkins were regulars, were they?” You presumed, already knowing the answer before he could say it.

“As a matter of fact they were. Yeah, I heard what happened to them. It’s tragic, just tragic.” The owner mumbled, reflecting on what he had read in the newspaper. But his moment of grief for his best customers only lasted for a moment, his thoughts were pulled back into business. “That’s not gonna be in the article, is it?”

You shook your head, reassuring the man there would be no bad press in the fake news article you would never write about. Dean, however, couldn’t help but think of something else. “You know, I gotta tell you, that—that Lincoln is so lifelike, I mean, you—I mean, you can just imagine him moving around.” He struck up a conversation, trying to ask some questions without weirding out the owner. From the frown that was starting to stretch across the owner’s face, it seemed he accomplished just that. “You ever see anything like that?”

“Well, um,” You jumped into the conversation, deciding it was best to try a different angle before the owner could get the wrong idea of why the three of you were really here. “Is there anything you could think of that would make your museum…unusual? You know, for the article?”

“Well, I’ll say. There isn’t another place like us, not anywhere.” The owner said. You looked at him with a curious expression, wondering what he meant by that. He looked over his shoulder and pointed a finger at the wax figure of Abraham Lincoln. “Well, for one, that’s Honest Abe’s real hat.”

You raised your brows, rather surprised to see of how a small museum like this managed to get their hands on something like that. Dean looked over at you and his brother from what he realized could have been linking the president here “Almost like his remains.”

The owner looked at Dean a bit funny from what he said, all while the younger man gave him a grin. You quickly changed the subject before things could get weird, “You wouldn’t happen to have any of James Dean’s personal effects, would you?”

“Oh, yeah. Got his keychain. We got a bunch of stuff, uh, Gandhi’s bifocals. FDR’s iron lung, one of the signs Susan B. Anthony herself used. This.” The owner indicated the most important possession he had in the museum from the smile that spread across his lips, you noticed it was the worn down leather jacket. Sam, being polite, asked who it belonged to. “The Fonz. Season two through four!”

“Wow. Yeah,” You agreed with him, giving a smile. “That’s really cool…ish.”

“This? This is nothing. I’ve been working on a new collection of figures. Stuff that’ll really wow the kids. Gen Y. Computer games, cell phone, sexting.” The owner scoffed, you tried your hardest not to react inappropriately. “They’re just fads. I’m gonna make wax museums hip again.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stifle a laugh when the owner gave the both of you a double thumbs up. You returned the gesture, giving him a smile from how ridiculous this conversation had suddenly turned out.

\+ + +

Night had fallen when all of you devised a plan to take down the spirits of Abraham Lincoln and James Dean before somebody else got hurt. You and Sam worked quickly to get supplies ready when he popped open the trunk and got everything situated. You grabbed one of the shotguns and began loading up on rocksalt, Sam did the same, all of you prepared for whatever might come tonight. No matter how many cases you worked, there was always one chance something could go wrong. When the two of you were prepared, he shut and locked the trunk, you headed for the motel where Dean was currently still in. You opened up the door and stepped inside, Sam on your heels, he busied himself with shoving the keys inside his pocket, you found yourself eavesdropping on the older Winchester’s conversation. He stood next to the window, with his back turned to the both of you, not having a single clue you had returned.

“Yeah, Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe that? Why so kill-crazy? Ah, maybe the apocalypse has got 'em all hot and bothered. Yeah, well, we all know whose fault that is….Well, I’m sorry. but it’s true.” Dean seemed to have been carrying out a conversation, thinking it was private, but he didn’t know the person he was passively talking about was standing right behind him. Sam made his presence known, he slammed the door shut, causing his older brother to turn around and see the man standing with a not so happy look on his face. “I’ll call you later. Bye.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, trying to start a civil conversation.

Dean replied with another question, “Did you and Y/N get the trunk packed up?”

“Yeah, the trunk’s packed.” Sam said. “Who was on the phone?”

“Bobby.” Dean said, not giving much more information. Sam raised his brow, wondering what else his brother was going to add. “That’s it.”

Dean wanted to leave the conversation at that, but Sam could tell there was something going on. You found yourself lingering against the door with your arms crossed over your chest, knowing this was going to be another Winchester, passive aggressive, fight. “So, we’re just gonna pretend I didn’t hear what I just heard?”

Dea shrugged his shoulders, “Pretend or don’t pretend, whatever floats your boat.”

“This was supposed to be a fresh start, Dean.” Sam said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Well, this is about fresh as it gets.” Dean replied. You watched as he grabbed his jacket from the bed before starting to approach the door. “Now, are we going or not.”

“Wait, wait. Can you take a look at my neck? It really hurts all of a sudden. I don’t know if it’s the way I slept on it,” You made the older Winchester stop in his tracks. He gave you a look when you brushed back your hair to expose your neck. “Or maybe it’s the whiplash you two keep giving me.”

Dean rolled his eyes from how this conversation was slowly turning out, “Don’t start this crap, Y/N.”

“You two promised me that you would work things out. But here we are, back to square one. It’s so frustrating to see you acting like Sam’s the only one to blame for what’s happening.” You argued with the oldest Winchester. “He’s not the only one who has blood on his hands. And you know it. Maybe if you were more of a man you would just admit it.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, Y/N?” Dean questioned you. From the tone of his voice you have struck a nerve in him, and it was exactly what you hoped for to bring back a few old memories for him to rethink.

“It means whatever you want. Just remember, you might have an angel on your shoulder trying to get you to do the right thing, but you will never be any better than your brother.” You said. It was your turn to drop the conversation at that, you gave him a look before heading for the door. You opened it up and looked at the boys from over your shoulder. “Are you guys coming or not?”

\+ + +

You and the boys arrived at the museum after closing, giving all of you a perfect chance to get this done and skip town by tomorrow. You headed through the familiar path of the exhibit you had been at earlier today, but now, you were armed with a loaded shotgun. You cautiously kept an eye out for any suspicious activity as Sam got started on the salt and burn. He grabbed an empty trash can, all while his brother decided to have some fun.

"Check it out.” You turned around to see that Dean was wearing Lincoln’s hat, and trying to a very poor impression of the man. “Four score and seven years ago, I had a funny hat.” You responded with an eye roll, mumbling about how immature he was being. He tossed the cat into the trash can. “Stop look like you’re sucking on a lemon, Y/N. I’m just trying to have some fun with this.”

“Let’s just torch the objects, torch the ghosts, and get out of here, okay?” Sam asked, wanting nothing more than to get this hunt done with.

“Hey, why don’t you two go grab 'East of Eden’s key chain?” You suggested to the both of them. “Dean, you can start it. And Sammy here can finish it. How does that sound?”

From the passive aggressive tone of your voice, you gave the brothers not much of a choice. You watched as they gave one another hesitant looks, but just a second later, they were heading down to find the exhibit, leaving you alone. You let out a sigh and dropped your shotgun to the side, deciding to try and find something to do while you were alone. You spent a few moments looking around at the wax figures, silently thinking of how much creepier they seemed in the dim lighting than they had earlier this evening. You slowly found yourself looking over at Abraham Lincoln, slowly, it started to turn into a staring contest, wondering who was going to move first. you or him. Whoever designed the wax figure paid close attention to detail, they had gotten almost exactly everything right, the way down to his wrinkles and mole.While it was scary, you found the sound of doors slamming roughy behind you just a tad more threatening.

You quickly turned around in your spot so you were facing the double doors, wondering if one of the boys accidentally slammed them by accident. Only you remained alone. “Guys!” You called out, waiting for a second to see if this was some kind of joke. You might be on a case, but sometimes Dean liked to be funny, playing a cruel prank when he shouldn’t. You headed for the door and tried an attempt at pulling on the handle, but it was jammed. “Dean, this isn’t funny!”

The shiver that ran down your spine told a different story of what was happening. You cautiously turned around in your spot and began scanning the room, all while you positioned up your shotgun for what might happen next. You knew there a spirit lingering out in the shadows, it was just the matter of finding out where it was hiding. You looked over when you heard the sound of floorboards squeaking across the room, taking you off guard, and just a second later, you felt the shotgun you were just holding go flying right across the room. You contemplated on making a dive for it, but before you could, you suddenly felt something leap onto your backside.

Somehow you managed to catch yourself after what felt like a hundred pounds suddenly being added to your body. You tried your hardest to fight off your attacker, who was doing everything in their power to make you fall. Instead you managed to roughly back yourself up against a wall, shoving the person off and making them fall to the ground. You quickly spun around in your spot to see who it was, whether it be Dean or Lincoln, but it was one of them. You furrowed your brow in absolute confusion when you spotted a woman, and from her long skirt and blouse, it seemed she wasn’t from this time period. But it took you a split second until you realized who it was, and when you did, she made her move.

Both of you struggled to pin one another down, despite you having more muscle than her, you were finding it hard to fend her off when she jumped on your back like a howler monkey. You heard the doors slam wide open and two pairs of footsteps running across the floors. While you struggled to get the woman from choking you to death, Dean decided to ask, “Who the hell is that?!”

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, kinda!“

You managed to free yourself just enough from her grasp to mention the banner, making the boys confused at what you were getting at. You quickly drew your arm up, pointing at the one you had been looking at earlier today. Somehow the boys figured out what you were talking about, and after what felt like forever, you finally found yourself inhaling a deep breath as the weight lifted itself off your shoulders. taking a moment to recover from the unexpected attack.

\+ + +

Ever since last night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have been getting something wrong here. Spirits were more of the common monsters you hunted, and every single time you had come in contact with them, the same routine always played out. But it seemed Dean thought all of you were done with this hunt, and it was time to move on to the next one. You sat on the edge of his bed, your belongings were at the doorway, you waited for the boys to finish packing up their stuff as you kept yourself busy by refolding Dean’s shirts when he just carelessly shoved them in. He quickly got tired of your help when he snatched a shirt from your grasp when he noticed you taken it out of his bag. You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands to your lap when he tucked it back into the bag before heading for the dresser to fetch the remaining of his clothes.

“Sammy,” Dean called out for his brother when he was still in the bathroom with the door open wide, “You ready to blow this joint?”

“Guys, didn’t it strike you as strange, the way she just vanished like that?“ You couldn’t help yourself anymore, the feeling of uneasiness made the question come out of your mouth. Dean headed over to the dresser again to grab the last of his clothes, he wondered what you meant by strange. "No screaming, no big flameout. I mean, that isn’t the way ghosts usually go.”

“Still,” Dean didn’t seem to find your argument all that worthy for his attention as he continued on packing. “I torched whatshername banner like you told me to, she vanished.”

Yeah, but I—" You found yourself stopping mid sentence at your thought, knowing it would only lead you with the progress of running around in circles with him. You decided to share another piece of information that was much different from any spirit that you had come in contact with. “Also, I feel like she was…trying to take a bite out of me. Like she was hungry. Which is a new one for me, personally. But the thing is, Alice Paul—or the real Alice—was known for her hunger strikes.”

Dean wouldn’t let you finish your sentence to continue explaining, he started chuckling to himself in disbelief. “Let me get this straight. Your ultimate hero is a chick who starved herself?”

“What? No. Alice Paul was one of the many women who fought in the suffrage movement back in the nineteenth century. She was thrown in jail, which lead and several other women doing hunger strikes just for the right to vote. I mean, she’s not the only person I look up to—there’s other amazing women in history like Rosa Parks, Florence Nightingale, Joan of Arc. The list goes on.” You said, giving him the reason why you had found the woman so intriguing. “The reason why Alice Paul is one of my hero is because she fought tooth and nail just to have the same rights as men. She’s one of the many women who have been fighting the same battle for centuries. But you would know that, if you opened up a text book in your life.”

“Maybe Y/N’s got something here. That was pretty out of the ordinary for us ganking a spirit.” Sam jumped to your defense. He had arrived out of the bathroom a few moments ago, now he was standing next to his motel bed, putting off packing for another minute. Dean looked over at his brother, and just a second later, he was being greeted with an annoyed glare when he put his opinion in where the man thought it didn’t belong. “Look, I’m just saying I’m not so sure this thing is over.”

“It was a ghost. It was a weirdly supercharged feminist ghost. But it was still a ghost.” Dean clarified for the both of you, as if what you had witnessed last night was good enough for him to skip town. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, still keeping your personal beliefs that something was wrong here. But the older Winchester seemed not to care, he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and put himself in the position straight for the door. “Now let’s go.”

“So, first, you drag me into town,” Sam couldn’t take it anymore, he decided that right now was when he was going to speak his frustration to his older brother once and for all. “And now you’re dragging me back out?”

“You ain’t steering this boat.” Dean said, shrugging off the man’s opinion and began heading for the door. He took a few steps across the room, but when he noticed you and Sam were still in your same position, he stopped himself to give the same command. “Let’s go. Chop-chop.”

“You know, this isn’t gonna work.” Sam admitted the truth he’d been trying not to say over the past month of being back. Now the shoe was on the other foot, the brothers were changing roles of who couldn’t trust the other. You knew this was the same song and dance, with the same damn ending like their many other fights over the past several years. Dean looked at the man, not sure what he was getting at. ”Us. You, me–together. I though it could, but it can’t.”

“You’re the one that wanted back in, cheif.” Dean said, trying to defend himself.

“And you’re the one who called me back in.” Sam stressed the point.

“I still think we got some trust-building to do.”

“How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?”

“Until I say so.”

“Look, I know what I did, what I’ve done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole. I am.” Sam spoke up a moment later, deciding to use a more calmer tone to try and keep this conversation from turning into an argument. He was trying his hardest to be level headed, but his brother wasn’t helping when he rolled his eyes. “But you’re not making it any easier.”

“So, what, am I supposed to just let you off the hook?” Dean questioned the younger man.

“No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it and worse. Hell, you’ll never punish me as much as I’m punishing myself.” Sam admitted the bitter truth with a fraction of a smile. You looked at him a bit differently, you gave him a look of sympathy for the mental torture he was putting himself through. He brushed your concern off as it was nothing, keeping more to the conversation, as if nothing was wrong. “But the point is, if we’re gonna be a team, you and I, it has to be a two-way street.”

Dean responded not a second later, “So we just go back to the way it was before?”

“No, we were never that way before. Before didn’t work. How do you think we got there?” Sam asked the dreaded question. Dean looked at the man, he felt his own brother was accusing him of something that pushed him down the path that started all of this. “Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby…was to get away from you. It made me feel strong, like I wasn’t your kid brother.”

The older Winchester’s face scrunched up in anger at the accusation, “Are you saying this is my fault?”

“No, it’s my fault.” Sam said, trying to defuse the miscommunication between the both of them. “All I’m saying that if we’re gonna do this, we have to do it different. We can’t fall into the same rut.“

"What do you want me to do?” Dean asked in a quiet tone, as if he was honestly starting to try again.

Sam answered for him with what he’s always wanted, “You’re gonna have to let me start grow up, for starters.”

Before this conversation could continue on anymore, you were saved by the ringing of your cell phone. It seemed the boys had realized you were still in the room, they were both caught up in their own personal disagreements, you slowly faded off into the background. You shoved your hand into your pocket and fetched out your phone, not even looking at the name, you answered it after the second ring. “Hello? Oh, Sheriff Carnegie. Funny you called, we were just–Wait, wait.” You stopped talking when the sheriff began speaking rather quickly, trying to get across the new case that had just arrived at his desk not even an hour ago. You listened to what he had to say, most importantly, it was connected to what’s going on. When you told him you would be down there in twenty minutes, you ended the call and looked at the brothers. “Looks like I was right about this thing not being over.”

\+ + +

The brothers could be deep into a fight, but when duty calls for a case, it seemed both of them could push their personal differences asides to wrap this up once and for all. The three of you managed to get dressed up and back at the station almost exactly at the time you promised the sheriff. You had become a bit familiar with the workings of the building as you headed into the station to find the sheriff with the boys following behind. Amongst all the ringing phones and police officers diligently doing their job, you spotted Sheriff Carnegie quietly sitting at his desk.

“Sheriff Carnegie,” You spoke the man’s name when you approached him. You gave him a concerned look at the look you noticed was on his face, it was as if he was more confused at this new addition to the case than the last two. “What happened?”

“I, uh, um…” The sheriff seemed to have been lost for words, he threw his hands up as he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

Nothing could explain what he was told without it sounding ridiculous. You furrowed your brow from the lack of information you were getting, the sheriff finally pointed a finger over his shoulder. You looked up to see that he was directing you to the conference room just behind him, where two girls who looked to be just in their teens sat. Both of them exchanged worried look as they sat quietly, it wasn’t hard to see they were scared out their minds from what they witnessed. You looked over at the boys before heading inside, wondering what this was all about.

“Excuse us, girls. Hi,” Dean greeted the teenagers with a warm smile. “We’re with the FBI. Would you mind telling us what happened?”

“It was horrible.”

“Way horrible.”

You gave the girls a concerned look, “What was horrible?”

“You won’t believe us.” One of them whispered, dropping her gaze to her lap.

“Believe what?” Dean asked, hopeful one of the girls would spit out a straightforward answer.

One of them finally admitted, “She took Danielle!”

“Who?” You asked. The girls quickly fell silent from the question, both of them stared down at their laps, afraid if they spoke the name all of you would start laughing like the officer who took their statement. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Just tell us. Who took your friend?”

“It was…Paris Hilton.” The girl said the name quick as she could. You found yourself looking at her with confusion, wondering what the hell was going on. “She looked really good, though.”

“Skinny.”

“Skinny and fast.”

Dean blinked, he tried his hardest to respond, but nothing intelligible came out. “Um,” Sam was the one who responded, somehow making a sentence that didn’t sound like gibberish. “Where did they go?”

“We don’t know.” One of them answered, shaking her head. “They just vanished.”

“Would you excuse us for just a minute?” Dean asked the girls, giving them both a small smile.

You gave the teenagers a quick smile of your own before joining the brothers out in the hallway for a bit of privacy to discuss what was going on here. It seemed you might have to rethink what you were up against. “Paris Hilton’s not dead as far as we know, right?” Dean asked, making sure to keep his voice not above more than a whisper. You looked over at Sam, both of you shrugged your shoulders, thinking she was still alive and breathing. “Which means it’s not a—”

“Ghost. No.” You agreed. You glanced over back at the girls again, while their case hadn’t exactly been the same pattern as the others, you had a feeling it was all connected. “Unless Paris Hilton’s a psycho maniac—which is highly unlikely, I think it’s safe to say we missed something.”

“What do you wanna do?”

\+ + +

You and Sam decided to review the bodies again, wondering if you might have missed something in the coroner’s notes, leaving Dean to wait outside in the parking lot until you investigated this one more time. Your formal clothing you had arrived in was lying across the room, trading them in for a pale blue set of scrubs and rubber gloves to blend more into the atmosphere, and without the chance of ruining your clothes. Sam read the file of Cal Hopkins, leaving you to read the information William Hill again. You were finding the same details all over again, it didn’t give you much insight of what was going on here, but it seemed that Cal had a more detailed autopsy.

William Hill’s body was still in the morgue until the case would be formally shut, and with the help of Sam, you and him got the man’s dead corpse on the metal slab, nothing more than a crisp white sheet covered his lower half. “If I’m right about this,” Sam told you his explanation of hauling a dead man’s body out of the cooled atmosphere and into a much warmer climate, “The coroner mention finding something strange in Cal’s stomach. Which means…”

“One of us has to cut into him, don’t we?” You asked the younger Winchester with dread. You could feel yourself becoming a bit queasy at the thought when you glanced down at the body for a moment. Before Sam could offer a chance to see who would do it, you placed your index finger on your nose and said, “Nose game–not it.”

Sam didn’t know what you were doing until it was too late. He often played rock, paper, scissors to make risky decisions with his older brother. You decided to up the stakes, giving him a different game, and not giving him a chance to fairly play. It seemed that you wouldn’t offer to try for another round, instead, you handed him the scalpel with a smile stretching across your lips. Sam decided to be the bigger person here just to get the job done faster. He grabbed the scalpel, and with the deep breath, he forced himself to make the first cut into the dead body. He made an incision that was deep enough for him to continue on further for what he was about to do next. You watched as Sam began forcing his hand into the dead body so he could reach for the stomach, you quickly looked away when you accidentally took a whiff of the decomposition, despite it being in cooled temperatures.

“Whew! That’s ripe.” Sam remarked underneath his breath. Your nose scrunched up as you slowly glanced back to see how he was doing. It seemed from the look on his face, Sam had found something. A second later, you looked upwards to his gloved hand, bloodied from his digging, but it was what he was holding between his index finger that caught your attention. “What the hell?”

It seemed that he had found the clue all of you accidentally looked over. You bagged what he had found and got dressed back into your normal clothes. You and Sam headed back out shortly after to see that Dean was where you had last left him. When he saw you coming down the steps, he pushed himself up to his feet after leaning against the stairwell.

“I can’t believe I missed it.” Sam said. All of you headed back to the Impala, knowing there was more research to do after your own personal findings with Sam’s help. “Y/N and I went back over the two vics. There was blood loss–major.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean didn’t seem to think any of it was out of the ordinary, “Being a gory smear will do that to you.”

“No, no, he means more blood loss than a car crash or a head wound should cause. Almost like something’s feeding off them. Which would explain why I was almost last night’s snack.” You said. You snaked a hand inside your pocket, pulling out the small plastic baggie you had stolen to hoard what Sam found. Holding it in front of Dean’s face, you let him inspect the two small black objects. “And then Sam found these.”

“What are those, seeds?” He asked with a bit of confusion.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “they were in both vics’ bellies.”

Dean ripped his hand away from the bag when he realized where they had come from. You couldn’t help yourself but quietly chuckle at his reaction when his face scrunched up in disgust, he took a counter measure of wiping his palm against his dress pants. “Gross. I hope you two washed your hands.”

“They’re unlike any other seed I’ve seen before.” You said, taking a moment to investigate a bit further into detail know that you were in natural sunlight.

“Wow,” Dean broke your concentration away, making you look over at him from what he said next. “Just when I thought Sammy was the geekiest . You’re giving him a run for his money, Y/N.’

\+ + +

You had been looking at your laptop screen for the past three hours, and with your luck, you had no idea what the hell you were looking for. You took your stressed out eyes from your computer and to the two black seeds, out of the bag, you found yourself staring at them with a glare, as if they had the ability to give you a mocking expression in return. While you were giving up hope you were going to find a breakthrough in this case, Sam came to your rescue. "Yahtzee!” Sam shouted from across the room with a chuckle, you quickly looked over at him when you realized he had found something of importance.

The seeds aren’t from around here. In fact, they’re not from any tree or plant in the country.“ Sam said, briefly skimming the information before reading off what he thought was important back to you and his brother. You raised your brow in curiosity and asked him where they were originally from. "Eastern Europe, from a forest in the Balkans, which is not even there anymore. It was chopped down like thirty years ago. Local legend has it that the forest was guarded by a pagan god whose name was Leshi–a mischievous god, could take on infinite forms.”

“And let me guess,” You said, “he liked to munch on his fans.”

“Yep. ‘Could be appeased only with the blood from his worshippers.’” Sam read from his laptop screen, giving more insight of what you were dealing with here. “It would drain them and then stuff their stomach with the seeds.”

“How’s he doing it? What, he touches James Dean’s key chain and then morphs into James Dean?” The older Winchester asked. You looked up to see that he moved away from the bed and headed over to the table. You shrugged your shoulders, seeming to think that it could have been a possibility. When Dean destroyed all evidence of what this pagan god could have transformed into, it vanished from sight. “More important question is, how do we kill him?”

“Says here to chop off his head with an iron ax.” Sam said.

“Wait, how the hell are we gonna find an iron ax? It’s not like we’ve got one just lying around in the trunk.” You said, mentioning a small clinch in their plan before all of you could play the hero like always. The boys looked at each other, and from their expression, it seemed that you were thankfully proven wrong. “Oh, okay…Let’s go gank ourselves a Paris Hilton, shall we?”

\+ + +

You had killed a list of different people in your line of work; innocent people possessed by demons, a few shifters that had taken forms of others that got you into deep trouble, the typical monsters, and that one time Dean had to kill himself—when the very first shifter who had took the persona of the man. This job had a lot of ups and downs, but you never killed a pagan god dressing himself up as a celebrity. You wandered through the wax museum late at night with the boys. While you manned the flashlight, Dean stood by your side with the ax as Sam was in front of the both of you. So far, everything seemed quiet enough, but you had a feeling this wouldn’t last long.

All of you continued down the hall of the museum, as you and Sam continued on forward, Dean steered off the path, taking a left down to another section of the hallway. Nothing seemed to have stood out as suspicious to you, it was exactly as it was when you were here the other night, except for one thing. Your flashlight caught sight of a warning sign that was straight ahead about no trespassing due to construction. You glanced up at Sam, he shrugged his shoulders, thinking it might have been a possibility that’s where you would find trouble. As you glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see Dean standing right now behind you, you rolled your eyes in frustration when you noticed he was nowhere to be seen. Sam had a quick solution, he whistled, loud enough for the sound to echo through the museum. Not even a second later, you saw Dean pop out from the corner.

Sam moved the sheet that was covering the entrance into the other part of the museum. He cautiously looked around to see if there was anybody around, but it remained the three of you. You headed inside when you noticed the new exhibit the museum was working on had remained empty. The setting was a bit unclear, it mostly resembled the outdoors, but you noticed the front of a house just across the way with another wax figure. For a moment you thought it could have been trying to copy the white house, but you pay much attention, you began scanning the area to see if you could find anything useful. You turned around slightly in your spot so you could inspect the far left side of the place. You spotted an almost endless amount of fake brushes around a few of the trees, and an unconcious teeanger tied to one of them.

You quickly moved to where she was and placed two fingers against the crook of her neck to see if she had a pulse. “She alive?” Dean quietly asked you.

“Barely.” You admitted with a quiet sigh.

As you moved to untie the girl from the tree, you didn’t make very much progress, for you had more important things to worry about. The ax that Dean was holding with a loose grip suddenly was ripped from his hands, it went flying into the air, and straight into a tree. None of you had any idea what was going on before it was too late. You looked to see you had a friendly guest, there stood the pagan god himself, but instead of being a crusty old man or dead celebrity, it was an upgrade in form. She stood there with her clothes and jewelry that looked more expensive than your house and everything inside combined. Dean stood closer to her, but before he could take his chance to take a swing, Paris was faster.

She proved to be more than just a pretty face, swinging punches faster than an experienced hunter could keep up with, and before you realized, Dean’s unconscious body was lying on the ground. Sam thought he had a fighting chance at taking the woman on, but before he could move even a foot, she easily flung him into the air, making him roughly bash his head against one of the banisters on the porch. When she realized how easy it had been taking out the boys, she placed her hands on her hips and grew a smile, knowing the only obstacle that stood in the way was you.

You thought that this was going to be easy. Throw a few punches and a take a swing right at her neck to chop off her head to end this all once and for all. But it seems Paris wanted to show you she wasn’t exactly like the true woman, she knew how to pack a punch. You didn’t have a single chance at trying to defend yourself when she came after you. She threw a few punches before you stumbled to the grass, you softened the blow by outstretching your arms, making yourself a perfect target. She stood over you, and with a toothy smile, she lifted up her Louboutin heels, you only recognized them by the iconic red sole. But before you could remark the expensive shoe, darkness was the only thing you could see a few seconds later.

\+ + +

Scratching sounds, it was the first thing you recognized after coming back around, and you didn’t realize how annoying the noise could be with your pounding headache after someone decided it was a smart idea to kick you in the head. Your body was pressed one of the trees, which had impeccable detail, because you could feel the rough bark dig into your back in an uncomfortable manner, not to mention your hands were tied behind you. You slowly opened your eyes to see a sight that wasn’t what you would have expected to come of tonight. The pagan god you’d been hunting for the past several days, who had made at least a handful of costume changes, decided that the skin he was wearing was good as any. The scratching sounds you were hearing had been of Paris, she sat on a tree stub and began nonchalantly filing her nails with one of the blades she’d picked out from a set. She glanced over at you and the boys, her lips stretching into a smile at the sight of everyone finally coming back around.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake for this.” She greeted you all with a smirk, knowing well enough all of you were in her clutches. You were finding it rather hard to take this monster seriously, for the mannerisms of the iconic reality star were down to a science. She wasn’t exactly threatening, even with the knife in her hand and others spread out for display, but she was sure as hell happy. And you knew the reason why, she was having a feast tonight after capturing her prey. “This is gonna be huge.”

“Super.” Dean remarked with his infamous sarcasm, he looked away as he rolled his eyes. “Sure wouldn’t want to miss this.”

Without anyone noticing, you began to try your hardest on tugging at the rope, somehow hoping you could slip yourself out of this before anyone could become the first course. You had a feeling with how it was tied, you could easily make a break for it, sometimes being smaller than the boys had its perks. “I mean, I’ve been stuffing myself with fast food lately. So it’s nice to do to the ritual right,” Paris continued on talking, having no clue of what you were trying to do, for she was too caught up on her gluttonous urges. “Prepare a nice, slow meal for a change.”

“Just like the good old days, huh?” Sam asked, pretending to be focused solely on her.

“You have no idea. People adored me.” She said, stressing the word as she scraped her nails once again across the blade to make sure it was perfectly sharp to cut through flesh. “They used to throw themselves at me, with smiles on their faces.”

"Yeah,” You pretended to agree with her as you kept your facial expression neutral when you tugged on the rope, hoping it would somehow become loose. But all you got in return was frustration, so you lashed out at the monster to put it to good use. “I guess these days, nobody gives a flying crap about some backwoods-forest god, huh?”

“No, not since they cut down my forest to build a yugo plant.” Paris said, admitting why she had been forced into hunting down her meals just to keep her hunger satisfied. Dean didn’t seem to feel empathetic, he shrugged off her excuse, saying something about the march of progress. “For years now, I’ve been wandering. Hungry. Scared. Scoundering for scraps. So not sexy.” There it was, the personality you would have expected from the real Paris Hilton, but it only lasted for a moment before she continued on. “But then, the best thing ever happened—someone tripped the apocalypse. And then I thought, what the hell—I’m tired of watching what I eat. I want to pig out. So I found this little place. It’s awesome. Adoring fans walk straight in the door.”

“Yeah, but they’re not your fans.” Sam corrected the woman.

Paris shrugged her shoulders, not seeming to understand where the problem was. "So? They worship Lincoln, Paul, Hilton…I can see your idol is Gandhi. You people think who you look up to are great and inspiring, but they’re all just human. They’re nothing like me. I’ll take what I can get.”

“You know, I got to tell you, you are not the first god we’ve met,” Dean said to her, “but you are the nuttiest.”

“No. You. You people. You used to worship gods. And you, I know you idolize strong characters, but I can see deeper, and you’re just like everyone else.” Paris pointed her index finger at you, deciding to use you as an example from her knowledge. You furrowed your brow, not quite what she was accusing you of. “You idolize celebrities, too. Maybe not Paris here, but I know you’ve got a thing for that actor—Ryan Reynolds. You think looking up to people nobody’s ever heard of makes you superior, but you’re not. You’re just like all the little sheep obsessed with people that have nothing more than fake tans and tiny dogs.”

“Wait, wait, wait—Wait a minute, sister.” Dean jumped into the conversation, making you turn your head to look at him when you heard him laughing. He let out a few chuckles, seeming to find this new found information nothing short of amusing. “You’re telling me Y/N is obsessed with that douche, Ryan Reynolds? The one who’s always in chick flicks? That dude was terrible in that new X-Men movie. Wasn’t he Deadpool?”

"What? He’s a good actor…it was just the movie that portrayed Deadpool all wrong. He’s not this dark and mysterious character. He’s a sarcastic and loudmouth antihero who loves to break the fourth wall. He really deserves his own movie. I think Ryan Reynolds would be perfect for the role.” You said, somehow finding yourself talking about a celebrity you had secretly harbored a crush on over the past year. Dean looked at you with a confused expression, probably wondering how you had known all that information, and why you liked the actor. “Josh was really big into comic books when we were teenagers. He would always talk about them and stuff when he tutored me in high school. And what can I say about Ryan Reynolds? He was pretty hot in ‘The Proposal.’ I guess I have a thing for handsome men with humorous personalities.”

“See? That’s my point.” Paris said, seeming to think your excuse was proving only what she had started to despise of what humans had become. You used it as a way to distract her long enough to start loosening your bonds when you felt the rope beginning to loosen the slightest. “You people used to have old-time religion. Now you have Us Weekly.”

“I don’t know, I’m more of a Penthouse Form man, myself.” Dean thought it would be funny to give a wink at her, as if he didn’t prove enough that he liked to run his mouth in times of being backed into a corner.

“Maybe…But,” Paris pushed herself to her feet, deciding to have a little fun for herself as she began to approach Dean, who she only viewed more as her first course as she began to look at him up and down. “There’s still a lot of meat on those bones, boy.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you sister, but, uh, you can’t eat me. See, I’m not a Paris Hilton BFF.” Dean said, knowing there was a little loophole that was at least stalling for the three of you. “I’ve never seen 'House of Wax.’”

Paris fell silent, while she understood that the hunter was right as she began shaking her head, there was something else that he almost forgot about. “No. But I can totally read your mind, Dean. I know who your hero is. Your daddy. Am I right?” She curiously asked, the man remained silent. Paris chuckled to herself as she turned around to face the ax stuck in the tree, you watched as she began walking to it. “And this belonged to him. Didn’t it? Poor little Dean. All you ever wanted was to be loved by your idol. One distant father figure, coming right up!”

Before you could see a reincarnation of John Winchester, you felt the rope finally become free, setting you loose and giving you a chance at payback. Paris made the wrong choice of turning her back on you to touch the ax, she didn’t see it coming when you dashed across the floor, and tackled her to the ground before she had a chance. You swung up your arm to take the opportunity to punch her, but she was faster, sending an unexpected blow, making you stumble to the ground. You wouldn’t have thought in a million years you would be lying on the ground, having a cat fight with a pagan god that was impersonating Paris Hilton, but this job had its twists and turns. She might have been winning this fight, but you could see a blurry figure come out from the corner of your eye going straight for the ax, making Paris distracted just a second longer than you.

You took the opportunity when it arised, you swung a punch at her, making the woman fall to the ground. You managed to get out of the way when Sam jumped into the fight. With the ax in his hands, you watched as he took a swing directly at her neck, but it took five whacks all together to see her head roll off to the ground. You laid in the grass and let out a sigh of relief, happy to know this case was done once and for all. When you looked up to see Sam, holding the ax that was covered in blood, you noticed his face had a fine mist that made him look like Patrick Bateman from “American Psycho” at the angle you were looking at him.

You decided to have a bit of fun, so when you spoke, it was in a high-pitch, mocking an infamous line the true Paris would say. “That’s hot.”

\+ + +

The next morning you were happily packing your bags again and grabbing the remaining amount of things you still had in the motel room. You gotten off the phone with the sheriff a little while ago, while you were overjoyed for another life saved, it stalled a bit on you packing. The boys had been ready an hour ago, but you were taking your sweet time. After everything they had been putting you through with this fighting, they could wait until you were done. You reached for your blouse that was discarded on the floor after coming back to the motel yesterday afternoon, as you bent down to grab it, you heard the motel door open after someone knocked twice. Dean announced his arrival when you heard a whistle come from him, you rolled your eyes and tossed the shirt into the duffel bag. 

“Now, there’s a sight I never get tired of seeing.” Dean was always cheeky with you, and you returned it with a disapproving shake of the head. He stepped inside your motel room with two cups of hot coffee, and from the smell coming from the brown paper crumpled in his right hand, breakfast for the go. You automatically reached out a hand to take the cup from his grip, but he quickly pulled away, you furrowed your brow in anger, it wasn’t exactly smart for him to test you without caffeine. “Hey, hey, hey. Get your grubby hands away. We’re not a case anymore. Which means…”

“I don’t know. What does it mean?” You asked him, pretending not to get what he was hinting around. Dean didn’t seem to like your answer, you quickly made your move, snatching the warm cup out of his grip and the paper bag before he could react. Your lips stretched into a smile when he realized what you had done. Before he could become upset, you leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips, knowing it was a rule for the both of you to keep relationship things on hold during hunts for safety. But now that you were free, things could go back to normal for a little while. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. It’s the least I could do. I mean, these past few weeks have been pretty crazy, huh? I wanted a moment alone with you, just to see how things are.“ Dean said. You weren’t exactly listening to what Dean was saying right now, but you nodded your head and mumbled a few words to make it seem like you were. Your main focus was packing up the remaining of your things as you sipped on your coffee. Dean watched as you put the cup down and reached for the blouse you had previously abandoned when he came in. But he knew from how your eyes jumped right on him you were fully back into the conversation after what he brought up. "Especially after dealing with future me. I sure was a dick, wasn’t I?”

It seemed that you were caught off guard from the change of topic. Neither one of you had spoken about what you had seen after being thrown forward into time to see five years ahead, mostly it was something you were desperately trying to forget after seeing people become the versions of themselves that was your worst fear. But you had a feeling from the growing smirk that was settling on Dean’s mouth, he wasn’t talking about the gritty details, it was something much more. You wanted to forget the memory that he was forcing back into your mind the most, and before you could try and change the subject, your guilt for the situation came bubbling to the surface.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for kissing him…or you. I don’t know. Whatever. It was a stupid mistake and it should have never happened. And despite how it you, only five years in the future, does that make the situation okay? Obviously, not—” Before you could finish your thoughts that were turning into a jumble of rambles, you were cut off at the feeling of someone pressing their lips against yours. You taste lingering elements of fresh mint and coffee, not the whiskey flavor and different things you had remembered from 2014 Dean, this one felt right, it always felt like home. “I’m guessing you’re not mad at me?”

“Well, to be honest, I was at first, but then it got me thinking.” Dean said. You could see a smirk starting to crawl at the edge of his lips from what he was about to say next. “Do I still got it even five years into the future?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think I need to refresh my memory just one more time.” You leaned forward to him as you reached up your arms, letting them wrap around his neck as he pulled you close, both of you shared another quick, yet passionate kiss to tear this hypothesis. Minute or so later, you pulled away, a little breathless, but your stomach felt the same way when you kissed him the first time. He always made it feel special. “You know, since I got my chance at a freebie, I guess it’s only fair.”

Dean raised his brows from what you were trying to say, “You telling me, at any given chance, I can kiss another other girl I want? Well, I did see a pretty cute girl at the front desk…” He was being a bit of a bastard, making you laugh slightly, but you could see that he was only joking when you pulled on his leather jacket, making him close as you could possibly be. “Please, Y/N. I would never. Nobody compares to you, sweetheart.”

You felt his hands wrap around your waist as he bent down to your level, about to give you another kiss as you let you a quiet giggle for how the both of you were acting. But the moment was soon interrupted when you heard someone softly knocking on the parted open motel door. You pull away from Dean to see that it was Sam, he quietly stood outside with his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, I just got off the phone with the sheriff. He told me Danielle was gonna be okay.” Sam said, giving the both of you some good news. You gave him a smile of appreciation as you stepped away from Dean. As you reach for your bag, Dean found himself falling silent, he avoided any eye contact with his brother, you didn’t seem to notice the behavior until the younger Winchester spoke up, this time, in a much awkward tone. “Um, I’m just gonna wait in the Impala, okay?”

You looked up to see Sam walking away, leaving you and his brother alone once more, but there wasn’t something right from the look on Dean’s face. You placed your hands on the duffel bag you were once trying to zip and let out a quiet sigh, knowing things were still awkward between the boys, and it was only going to show now there wasn’t anything to distract them with. “You two are gonna have to get over this little tiff one day.” You said to the older Winchester. Dean rolled his eyes from what you mentioned, he knew it was true, but the both of them would only keep this going until it was too late. “Dean, if you keep thinking about the past, it’s not going to change the future. We’re all going to turn into…that.”

The mention of it made Dean flinch at the memory, it wasn’t just seeing his future self pulling the colt on you that made him upset, it was more that he thought you didn’t see. To this day, he wondered what made his brother say yes to the Devil. “‘The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.’” You brought him back into reality when you spoke again. Dean furrowed his brow from what you said, you let out a soft chuckle and walked over to him with your bag strap over your shoulder. “It’s a quote from Gandhi. The more you keep Sam on a leash, the closer we’re all damned to repeat history. You gotta let it go, Dean. I mean, there was a time I didn’t trust you.”

Dean thought about what you mentioned, his facial expression softened when he remembered what he did to you last year. Between lying to you about what he did in Hell for months and listening to a demon himself, perhaps he wasn’t better than his brother. “Look, I understand you can’t trust Sam all the way just yet. But you gotta try, Dean.” You said to him. You reached out your arm and intertwined your fingers with his. “You’ll get there eventually.”

The both of you exchanged a look before deciding it was time to head out. You shut the motel room door and began heading down the path where the Impala was parked, and a patient Sam leaning against the passenger side door until his brother would open up the trunk. You gave the younger man a smile as you adjusted the strap on your shoulder, you complained to Dean that he needed to hurry up. He mocked you in a playful tone as he grabbed the keys from his jacket and opened up the trunk, allowing you first to toss in your duffel bag first, for some reason it felt like it weighed a ton. Dean was silent as he watched his brother do the same thing, you nudged him in the side with your elbow to give him the courage.

“Hey, listen, I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About me keeping too tight of a leash on you.” Dean stared off the conversation. He was a bit awkward at first, he shoved his hands inside his pocket as Sam looked up at him, wondering what this was about. The older Winchester found himself glancing over at you for a second. “Hell, maybe you’re right. I mean, look, I’m not exactly Mister Innocent in this whole mess either, you know. I did break the first seal.”

“You didn’t know.” Sam said, thinking he was fully only at fault for everything that was happening.

“Yeah, well, neither did you.” Dean said. Sam looked down at the ground, obviously not comforted by the thought about how all of you played a heavy part in this mess. “I’m not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but, you did kill Lilith.”

“And start the apocalypse.” Sam added.

“Which neither of us saw coming, I mean, who’d have thought killing Lilith would’ve been a bad thing?” Dean asked. The man found himself at a pause, almost as if he was trying his hardest to get the words out of his mouth. But he knew you were right, him and his brother needed to be on the same page for this to work. “Point is, I was so worried about watching your every move that I didn’t see what it was actually doing to you. So, for that I’m sorry.”

Sam looked at the man directly in the eye from what he heard, “Thanks.”

Dean nodded his head, deciding this picture perfect moment wasn’t going to last forever, he said his grief, now it was time to get back on the road. He reached up and slammed the trunk shut, while he kept himself occupied by looking for the keys to the Impala, there was a question lingering in his mind. “Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know about you guys, but the way I see it, we’ve got one shot at surviving this.” You said. Dean looked over at you, wondering what you were going to say. “Maybe the Devil wants to wear Sammy like a cheap suit. Maybe the same with you and Michael. Maybe there’s no changing that.”

“Well,” Dean let out a bitter chuckle from what you were saying, “That’s encouraging, Y/N.”

“But we can stop wringing our hands over it. We got to just grab on to whatever’s in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting.” You said. If all of you thought the fight was trouble before, you were just getting started. The boys seemed to have agreed with your plan, but you weren’t done speaking. “Look, if we really want to survive this, you gotta have each other’s backs. Both of you are gonna have to be on the same level. Because if you think the fight for you is hard, I have a feeling it’s gonna be twice as hard for me, if you know what I mean.”

The boys nodded their head, knowing well enough what you were speaking about, without addressing further details everyone knew, but pretended as if it wasn’t real. You placed your hands on your hips and let out a sigh of relief. “What do you say we get the hell out of here?” Dean asked the both of you. You were more than happy to agree with that plan. Sam headed for the passenger’s side as you began walking to the backseat, like always. Dean turned around to head for the driver’s side, but he stopped in his tracks, he decided to change things up a bit.

Dean turned around to face his little brother with an outstretched hand, you noticed the keys were dangling from his index finger. “You wanna drive, Sammy?”

Sam was a bit hesitant at first about taking the offer. It was the first time his brother asked him to drive since the apocalypse started. “You sure?”

Dean glanced over at you for a moment, you stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, and the smallest smile starting to spread across your lips at what he was doing. The Impala was like Dean’s baby, his prized possession, and seeing him being brave enough to let his little brother drive, you had a feeling this was the step in the right direction. “Yeah. I could, uh—I could use a nap.” Dean said as he looked back over at his brother. “That is, if Y/N will let me crash in the back.”

You didn’t have a problem with that at all. You looked over at Sam, the both of you gave each other a quick smile, all before you were running around the car, going in the opposite of where you were comfortable with. Sam got himself in the driver’s side as you slipped yourself into the passenger seat, Dean didn’t seem to complain when he got the entire backseat to himself. The engine turned over just a short moment later, and before Sam could put his foot on the gas, Dean already was complaining about not wanting to too much chatter from you and his brother. You looked at Sam from the corner of your eye, and for some reason, the both of you shared an expression of gleefulness, like you were sharing some secret. Maybe, for the first time since being back together, you had your best friend again, there was no awkward tension between the both of you. And for the first time, you couldn’t wait to share a moment of normalcy with the younger Winchester.


	6. I Believe the Children Are Our Future.

Part One:

It was three in the morning when you found yourself being pulled away from a deep slumber; your eyelids ripped themselves open as you automatically clutched the motel sheets into a tight fist. For a second you could only feel sheer panic, almost as if you were in immediate danger, but you realize in the darkness of the room, you were alone. You blinked and cautiously took your head off the pillow, wondering what time it was as you tried distracting yourself from the nightmare you must have had. For the past few months, on and off, you had been having a string of weird dreams, all before waking up exactly at three a.m. from the look of the numbers on the digital clock that sat on the nightstand, you were right on schedule. You squinted your eyes before dropping your head back to the pillow, you let out a sigh, knowing you shouldn’t have had that late dinner with the boys before retiring to bed just a few short hours ago.

All of you arrived into a small town town in Nebraska after finding a case that seemed strange enough. Since Cas had been silent on his search for the colt, you and the boys continued on hunting, as if everything was the same. You rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling when you found the nervous edge hadn’t left your body just yet. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night like this, it didn’t bother you, you just shrugged and closed your eyes like normal before falling asleep. But not tonight. You pulled the sheets to your chin and tried your hardest not to look around the room. You felt like someone was watching you.

You remembered when you were just a teenager, probably around thirteen or fourteen, when you first had the experience of waking up in the middle of the night and feeling like this. You mentioned it your mother at breakfast the very next day, and while you expected her to make a comment about how you watched too many scary movies, she didn’t. She had rarely shown any interest in the supernatural, but she mentioned something that stuck with you until this very day. Waking up in the middle of the night, around this time. meant that something

in your room, watching you sleep until you woke up, feeling its presence. She also said people believed that three a.m. was known as the Devil’s hour, a time where pure evil in the form of demons make their presence felt in the world, sort of a way to mock the good side, as some presumed Jesus was killed exactly at three p.m. But she said it was just all myth, nothing about that sort of thing should be taken seriously. You were about to scoff at how wrong she was, but an unfamiliar sound cut you off.

The noise you heard was static, almost like someone was shuffling around with the radio to try and find a good song, you heard it plenty of times when Dean fooled around with the music in the Impala. There was a jumbled amount of voices before one came clear. “ Don’t you remember how you used to say you’d always love me in the same old way? But know it’s very strange that you should ever change. Sometimes I think someone has won your heart tempted you away. But let me warn you, though we’re miles apart, you’ll regret someday, my darling..” You furrowed your brows, wondering if the soft singing voice was coming from the room next door. People in motels could be unpredictable. Most of the time people were quiet, other times it took no more than a measly threat to get peace and quiet.

“After you’ve gone and left me cryin’. After you’ve gone there’s no denying you’ll feel blue, you’ll feel sad. You miss the bestest pal you ever had…” The music was getting louder. You pushed yourself to an upright sitting position on the bed and listened closely, beginning to wonder why someone was playing music this late at night. You looked around the room to see if you could pinpoint where it was coming from. As you glanced down to see what time it was again on the clock, you noticed something was different about it from the last time you looked at it.

The clock sitting on the nightstand was one of those old hybrids that also functioned as a radio. You’d seen it a few times in the dozens of motels you stayed in. What made you realize something was wrong was because there was a glow coming from the radio, it was on. You reached out a hand to turn it off, but the music continued. “There’ll come a time, now don’t forget it. There’ll come a time when you’ll regret it. Someday when grow lonely, your heart will break like mine and you’ll want me only. After you’ve gone, after you’ve gone away…“ The woman’s voice was soulful as she belted out the lyrics, she hit the highest notes with a deep and soulful touch, she battled the upbeat jazz as the tune continued on singing about her lover who had left her for another. You could feel your skin prickle as the feeling of being watched creeped back.

"Oh you’re gonna miss me baby, I-I-I-I don’t mean maybe. Someday when grow lonely, Your heart will break for me only…” You pulled the motel sheets closer to your stomach. Suddenly you felt like you were a teenager again, the fear of what lingered in the dark clouded your mind with make believe monsters that were out to get you. Inhaling a deep breath, you began to slowly look around the dark room, wondering if you could make out any foreign shadows as an enemy. You psyched yourself out for nothing, but when you looked at the opposite side of your bed, you heard the woman sing out the last of the song, belting out the loudest and highest note she could, you didn’t hear yourself letting out a sharp gasp at what you saw. It was him again. Lucifer, the one who had a habit of creeping into your dreams, sat right next to you on the bed. You felt yourself overcome with fear as his lips stretched into a smirk. “After you’ve gone, after you’ve gone away…”

\+ + +

It was around nine in the morning when you stepped in the morgue just underneath the local hospital, dressed in your formal gear and a cup of coffee you’d been nursing since you left the motel, you counted this as your third one since you gotten out of the shower just a bit after six. You and the boys were down at the station to investigate the mysterious death of a young woman who had scratched her head to get rid of an itch, but it seemed she couldn’t stop until she made it all the way down to the bone. You thought it could be your type of thing, as the only death you had heard of someone scratching at their own skin until they died was your mother. But you had a feeling demons weren’t the cause for this, the victim was a seventeen year old girl, and you doubted she made any deals that would offer such deadly consequences. You presented the proper form of identification as you struggled to get the fake badge out of your pocket, you gave the man a smile as Dean introduced the three of you.

“I’m Agent Page,” Dean introduced himself before nodding his head at you and his little brother. “And these are my partners, Plant and Patterson, FBI.”

The doctor inspected the badges for a split second before looking at the three of you. He put his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat and asked, “Gentlemen, lady. What brings you here?”

“We need to see Amber Greer’s body.” Sam explained to the older gentleman.

“Really?” He asked, seeming a bit baffled at the request. “What for?”

“The police report said something clawed through her skull?” You asked him, hoping to jog his memory.

“Oh.” The doctor whispered underneath his breath, now understanding under what matters you were here for. But it seemed you found yourself in a bit of a bind from what he said next. “You didn’t read the autopsy report that I emailed out this morning?”

“W-We had, uh,” You quickly spoke up for the three of you, trying to find an excuse that was good enough to help cover your tracks like always. But for a second you found yourself with a fogged mind, unsure of what you were trying to say from the lack of sleep. The doctor gave you a worried look. “Server issues. Been running around since dawn trying to take care of them.”

Your lousy excuse seemed to have been decent enough for the doctor to believe. He shrugged it off and ushered the three of you to follow him. You headed across the room, draining the rest of the coffee before disposing of the paper cup in the trash can you passed on the way. You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched one of the cooler doors open up, all before the doctor was pulling out Amber’s body. He pulled off the white sheet from her face, you couldn’t help yourself but automatically flinch, the fresh wounds on her temple only brought back memories. After a moment of looking away, you slowly forced your eyes to be drawn back on the girl, knowing that you needed to examine her head wound in order to do this job properly.

“When they brought her in, we thought she was attacked by a wolf or something.” The doctor explained what he had found. Dean nodded his head, repeating the last word, as if it was a clue for the both of you, knowing very well other matters could have been at fault here. You watched as the man reached down to pull something out from the metal slab, you furrowed your brow in confusion at what you saw. It was something rather small, and from the looks of it, you mentally noted it looked rather familiar. “But we were wrong. It’s a press-on nail. We found it in her temporal lobe.”

“Is that even possible?” Sam asked, seeming rather shocked at what he was hearing.

Dean examined the stretch marks on the girl’s temple a bit longer before glancing up up to the doctor when he asked,“Wait, are you—you saying that she did this to herself?”

“Uh-huh. She scratched her brains out. It’d take hours, and it’d hurt like hell, but sure—it’s possible.” The doctor answered for the older Winchester. But he was still confused on the matter as he asked how this was possible. “Pick your acronym—OCD, PCP. It all spells ‘crazy.’ My guess—some kind of phantom itch. I mean, an extreme cases, but…”

You quietly listened to what he was saying as you glanced down to the table, you reached up the sheet to examine the girl’s fingers. You noticed the cuticles on her left hand were covered in dry blood and her middle finger was missing her fake nail. You frowned slightly to see they were pale blue with a little ladybug in the middle. You dropped the sheet and glanced up at the doctor when you heard a piece of terminology that you were a little bit familiar with, “Phantom itch?”

“Yeah. All it takes is someone talking about an itch,” The doctor explained to you as he began pushing the metal slab back into the cooler. He slammed the small door shut before looking over at you. “Or thinking about one, even—and suddenly you can’t stop scratching.”

You nodded your head and gave the doctor a smile, deciding it was enough information to slowly piece together what might be happening. You watched as he gave the three of you a friendly smile goodbye before heading off to his office, leaving you alone. When he was out of sight, all of you subconsciously reached up to tend to the prickling sensation across your skin. Sam lightly pulled at the collar of his shirt as Dean rubbed his earlobe, you reached up a finger and scratched your cheek. When all of you made eye contact, you dropped your hand to your side, deciding it would be best to get the hell out of here and move on to the next part of the investigation.

\+ + +

“Okay, now, some of these questions might seem a bit odd, but please just bear with me.” You and the boys were at the house of the child Amber was babysitting on the night she had died. Sam spoke to the parents as you and Dean quietly lingered around, wondering if you could find any sort of smells or sensations, possibly even a hex bag placed somewhere conspicuous that could help figure out what was going on here. “Have you noticed any cold spots in the house? Possibly any strange strange smells?”

The parents exchanged a look of uneasiness from the questions they presumed was a real FBI agent, but they continued on, being helpful as they possibly could. Dean took one side of the house, slipping out of sight as you strolled into the way you arrived here, walking into the area that had the doorway to your right and the staircase on the left. As you stood in the doorway, contemplating on going upstairs, you stopped in your tracks when you saw a little boy silently lurking from the dining room that was just across the room. You stopped in your tracks and gave him a friendly smile, the boy quietly tried to back away, as if you didn’t see anything. You gave him a friendly wave, making him step out from the shadows to see if you could talk to him yourself.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” He curiously asked, but you could tell from the quiver in his voice that he was nervous about something.

“Don’t know yet.” You said. You shrugged your shoulders, putting your foot in front of the other slowly, you approached him, watching as he tried putting his hand into his jean pocket, but he missed every attempt. “It’s, uh…Jimmy, right? And Amber was your babysitter?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jimmy answered in a polite tone.

“Yeah, most of my babysitters sucked. Especially Ms. Chancey. She only cared about two things—'dynasty’ and bedtime.” You said, thinking if you could somehow make Jimmy feel a little less nervous he might tell you something useful. You quietly began to chuckle, but Jimmy didn’t even crack a smile at you. “Okay. Did you, uh, you see anything strange that night?”

“No, ma'am.” Jimmy repeated himself. You narrowed your eyes slightly at him from what he answered with. From the way he was acting, you knew he was hiding something,and Jimmy could tell from the way you were staring at him that you were on to him. “I-I would tell you if I knew something. I promise—one hundred percent. Cross my heart.”

“That’s a pretty big promise, Jimmy. Cross your heart, hope to die—stick a needle in your eye. Isn’t that how it goes?” You asked, wondering if the old rhyme from a childhood promise was the same. Jimmy nodded his head. Normally you would have left it at that, but you could tell he was hiding something, and it might have been from the lack of sleep you gotten, but you weren’t in the mood to play good cop with a twelve year old. “Well, Jimmy, I happen to know you’re lying.” Jimmy tried defending himself by shaking his head, but you cut him off before he could give you an excuse. You took a lesson from your mother when you were a kid, it was the old trick when you had a temper tantrum when you were much younger. If you didn’t behave, you were going to be dropped off to the police station where bad kids go. “We’re gonna start talking the truth, or are you and me gonna have to take a little trip downtown?”

It worked when you wanted to have that cute little stuffed animal in the store, and it worked when Jimmy confessed to what he wasn’t telling you. You might have been harsh on the poor kid, he was just having a bit of fun by playing a prank on Amber. He didn’t know it would have lead to her death. You said goodbye to the parents and thanked them for their cooperation one last time before heading down the porch steps with the boys. You flicked around the paper package, hoping it was tightly sealed so you wouldn’t accidentally get some on your skin, a bit afraid you might go through what Amber had did.

“Jimmy said he put this on the babysitter’s hairbrush.” You said as you lifted up the small package for the boys to look at. Dean cracked a smirk at what he saw, Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes at the childish prank that should have only resulted in Jimmy getting grounded, and not such deadly harm as it did for Amber. 

“Y/N, there’s no way itching powder made that girl scratch her brains out.” Sam said. “It’s just ground-up maple seeds.”

“I know. Your stupid brother doused my clothes with it when the two of you had prank war. God, I’m itchy just thinking about it.” You muttered underneath your breath. Dean couldn’t help himself when he started chuckling at the memory, you shoved the powder into his hand as you subconsciously scratched your neck when you felt the familiar prickling sensation. “But it’s the only lead we have. So if you have any other theories, Einstein, I’m open to 'em.”

Sam was about to put his two cents in, but he stopped in his tracks at the sound of his cell phone going off. You and Dean headed to the Impala, letting him answer his phone, you opened up the backseat door and leaned against it, wondering what the call was about. “Yeah?” Sam answered the phone. The conversation might have lasted a few seconds, but from the look on your face, you had a feeling it had to do with the case. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

\+ + +

You and the boys had only been investigating the death of Amber Greer for a few hours before Sam got the call from the doctor informing the three of you there was another strange one, only this time, at the hospital. You followed the boys down the hall after getting a set of directions from the receptionist, it didn’t take too long to see you were a bit late to the party when a few nurses zipped up the body and pulled it out on a gurney. The doctor stood at the edge of the doorway, watching as the situation slowly wrapped itself up, but you broke him out of concentration when you appeared out from the corner of his eye.

“What happened here?” You asked, taking one last look at the body bag before focusing your attention back on the man.

“Guy got electrocuted. We think it might have been due to a loose wire or the equipment shorted out. But we haven’t found anything.” He explained to the three of you. Sam peered over the man’s shoulder, asking if there was any witnesses all of you could talk to. “Yeah, that guy in there—Mr. Stanley. He says he saw it, but he’s not making a lick of sense. Senile.”

You nodded your head and thanked him, all before your attention was pulled to the old man sitting in an armchair that was right next to the window. Mr. Stanley didn’t break his concentration from the view of the garden outside on this sunny morning, his personal thoughts keeping him occupied. You quietly spoke his name in a soft tone, breaking him away, you noticed he wasn’t startled, he was more overcome with guilt at what he’d done.

“It was just a joke. I didn’t know it would really work.” Mr. Stanley muttered to you with a somber tone. You furrowed your brow in confusion at what really happened here.

“What would work?” Dean asked the older man.

Mr. Stanley put his right arm out with his palm wide open, you glanced down to see what he wanted to show you. There was a circular metal in the palm of his hand, probably no bigger than a nickel. You noticed right away it one was of those joy buzzers people use to give their unsuspecting victim a little shock when they tried shaking their hand. But for Mr. Stanley, this was no laughing matter. “All I did was shake his hand.”

\+ + +

A fifteen pound spiral ham, check. Three pairs of safety goggles and rubber gloves, double check. It seemed you and the boys were going to have an interesting afternoon ahead for you. After making a few trips around town for supplies, you were back at the boys’ motel room with a scatter of plastic bags crumbled on the floor. The ham you bought at the grocery store was put into two aluminum foil pans so it wouldn’t burn through the motel table cloth. You grabbed the goggles from the table and backed far away until you were at the distance the three of you agreed on was safe enough. Dean volunteered to see if this prank was deadly as the old man said it was. He put on the thick rubber gloves and placed the goggles onto his head, preparing him for what he was about to do. He stood in front of the table and grabbed the buzzer, you raised your brows when he looked over his shoulder before getting this started.

“You ladies ready?”

“Hit it, Mr. Wizard.”

You placed the goggles against your face as Sam followed suit for precaution, all of this made you feel like you were back in science class, maybe it was the inner geek that loved doing experiments, but your chest tightened with nervous excitement for what was about to happen. Dean was hesitant in all of this matter. His hand that was holding the buzzer lingered in the air, wondering what might go wrong if the gloves weren’t safe like you to him it would be. Inhaling a quiet breath, Dean did it, he pressed the joy buzzer against the ham, and what unfolded in front of your eyes was science. A very, very weird sort of science.

It was all sort of like that show, “Mythbusters.” You felt your eyes widen behind the goggles as you watched the ham at first beginning to smoke as it becomes electrocuted from the powerful force, and slowly, it changed color it was a dark black after being cooked all the way through. Dean removed the buzzer just after a few seconds, leaving the ham inside the pan, a bit burnt, but from the smell, it was done. You dropped the goggles to your side and stared at the sight with surprise as Sam found himself gawking at the sight, not actually believing the cheap toy would work that well.

Dean reached up his free hand and flipped up the dark visor to take a better look, his lips stretched into a grin as he inhaled the salty pork that was making him hungry. “That’ll do, pig.”

“What the hell?” Sam muttered. You glanced up at him, the both of you shared a look of astonishment from what had unfolded right in front of you. You walked forward as Sam followed suit, he looked over at your shoulder to examine the ham, unlike you, who was the idiot that touched the scolding hot piece of meat, making you flinch and quickly pull your burned finger away. “That crap isn’t supposed to work.”

“This thing doesn’t even have batteries.” Dean said, gesturing to the joy buzzer that was still on his gloved finger before slipping it off like the other.

“So…So, what? Are we looking at cursed objects?” You asked, wondering if that could be the reason for the pranks going sour in this town. Dean shrugged his shoulders as he reached into his pocket for something, you glanced down to see that he fetched out his knife, and with the flick of his wrist, he went to town on the cooked ham. “Maybe there’s a powerful witch in town who’s feeling a little cynical. And…And you’re seriously going to eat that? Even after what you just did?”

You didn’t know why you were surprised when Dean sunk the knife into the cooked ham to cut himself a small piece for himself. Inspecting it by taking a quick sniff, he popped the cooked meat into his mouth and began chewing, by the sounds of his grunts, he was pleasantly happy at the experiment. "Is there any link between the, uh,” He reached out a hand to pull off another piece of ham and popped the scrap into his mouth. “The joy buzzer and the itching powder?”

“Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store.” You answered for him not a second later. You furrowed your brow as you watched him continue on eating the ham. He cut off another piece for himself and offered some to his brother, who politely declined, Dean didn’t seem bothered, more for him. You stared at him as your nose began to wrinkle, wondering how he had the stomach for this. “You will eat anything, will you?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders and agreed, taking another bite of the ham. “Yup. Pretty much.”

\+ + +

The little magic shop that was causing more horror than laughter was nestled in the town shopping area and just a few minute walk from the motel. Dean opened up the door and stepped inside first, setting off the bell above that alarmed the owner of new customers, but instead of a ringing noise, you noticed it was the sound of mechanical laughter. You headed inside the shop filled with overpriced garbage that was nothing more than hocus pocus, little tricks kids would be fascinated with and pranks older siblings would play on one another to have a good laugh.

You examined a display of magic cards for a moment, but you looked up when you heard Dean call out your name. He stood on the opposite side of the display you had been casually staring at, not taking much interest in the things, except for him. Dean held up what you thought was a whoopie cushion and began to smile when he nodded his head at his brother, who stood with his back to the both of you, not suspecting a thing. You responded with an eye roll and the shake of the head, not wanting to be apart of his stupid prank.

“Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery.” You looked over to the back of the store when you heard a voice echo through the place. A man stood behind the register, and all though he sounded enthusiastic, the look on his face told a different story. You found yourself quietly chuckling at his shirt when you noticed it was Sigfried and Roy with their famous white lion.

You walked over to the counter as the man jumped down from the small stage, heading over to see what this was all about. Sam was the one who asked, “Are you the owner?”

“Yep.” He answered.

“You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?” You curiously asked.

“Yeah, a grand total of one each. They aren’t exactly big-ticket items.” The owner answered, he let out a chuckle, but it sounded forceful and bitter from how business had been treating him. “Look, you kids here to buy something or…what?”

Dean answered him with good news when he held up the whoopie cushion and pulled out a five dollar bill to cover the charges. “So,” You kept the conversation going, keeping your annoyance hidden. “Do you get many customers?”

“Kids come in. They don’t buy much, but they’re more than happy to break stuff.” The owner said. You noticed he was rather easy to hold a grudge against the younger generation, seeming to become angry that they didn’t share the same views at what he thought was entertaining and valuable. “These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just…”

“Angry?” You asked in a low voice.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am angry.” The owner mumbled, nodding his head in agreement with you. “This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now it’s wasting away to nothing.”

“Yeah,” You agreed with him, egging him on. “Which is why you hate them.”

“I suppose.” The owner said.

“You wish there was something you could do about it.” Dean remarked, adding fuel to the fire as the owner glanced over at his direction. The man nodded his head, agreeing, and falling into the trap you set for him. “So you’re taking revenge…” He reached out a hand to grab one of those rubber chickens from the display and slammed it down to the counter, the other hand held the joy buzzer in the air. “With this.”

Without a warning, Dean slammed the buzzer to the chicken, and in seconds, you could smell burning plastic as it began to liquify, sticking to the metal countertop. The reaction you gotten from the owner was what you were least expecting. His eyes widen in terror that nobody could fake as he began stumbling back, all before accidentally tripping and falling to the stage that ended up breaking his fall. He crawled far away from the disturbance as he could, you suddenly didn’t feel all that triumphant. You honestly felt sorry for traumatizing the poor man like this.

“Something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch.”

Sam’s presumption was becoming real from the look that wouldn’t leave the owner’s face. You began to back away slowly, muttering apologizes underneath your breath as you smiled slightly at him, hoping he would think of this as some terrible joke gone wrong. You turned around on your heels and exited out the door, hoping the man would be too frightened to call the cops on you and the boys. You looked over your shoulder and to the shop sign that was starting to become smaller in the distance. Something strange was going on in this town, and you weren’t talking about pranks gone bad. You honestly felt different since you arrived here, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what it was. Not yet, at least.

\+ + +

Growing up, there was a few fictional beings that you once believed were true, and that brought only good—creatures like Santa Clause, a fat man with a jolly laugh and white as snow beard, giving presents for those who were good, and coal for those who were wicked. The Easter bunny was a bit more of a stretch for you that made you more frightened when you were much younger with a wild imagination. The idea of a giant bunny hopping around and giving people eggs to find made you a bit frightened, but the candy left in your pastel pink basket and decorating hard boiled eggs the night before each year made up for it. But there was one right after Santa that most kids loved. It was the tooth fairy. You first heard about the tale when you were having one of your yearly checkups at the dentist’s office at the age of seven when the center bottom tooth was loose. It was a bit of stretch for you to believe someone would want your small teeth in exchange for money, but like most kids, you fell for the myth. 

You always thought the tooth fairy was an innocent lie parents told their children for traditions to keep their lives exciting, like Santa Clause and the Easter bunny, but after speaking to the doctor this morning, it seemed you couldn’t be farther from what you had believed. The tooth apparently was real, and she was coming much later for a bigger treasure. She made a pit stop last night, but it wasn’t for a man’s daughter and her loose tooth that fell out earlier that day, it was for his teeth—all thirty-two of them. You found yourself subconsciously licking your teeth with your younger from behind your tightly pressed lips, feeling obligated not to brag about the luxury of a healthy set when a man was woken up in the middle of the night by a stranger hovering over him with a pair of plyers. From the Disney movies and your wild imagination at seven years old, you thought the tooth fairy looked like one of the fairies from Pinocchio or Cinderella, magic wand included.

Come to get find out, the job was held by a man, and from the description you were given from the victim, he was the polar opposite from your imagination. The man was tough, burly, and demanded a payment that only satisfied him. You accidentally winced a few times when you noticed the flaming red gums peek through whenever the poor man tried to talk, giving you a perfect idea of what his attacker looked like. The idea of having all your teeth ripped out by a man twice your size and dressed in a pink tutu made you actually kind of scared. It was like the one case you had worked on with a coven of witches, a woman lost all her teeth, they just fell out, one at a time.You mentally shuddered at each scenario when you imagined.

Thanking the man for his cooperation, you clicked your pen and shut the notepad filled with everything you needed to figure out what was going on in this town. You stepped out of the room, letting him get used to the momentarily life of baby food until a dentist could give him dentures that would make him good as new. You stepped out into the hallway and turned your head to the left, you noticed Dean was standing around, waiting patiently for you and his brother to finish up the interview. Shoving the notepad into your back pocket, you headed over to Dean, letting out a sigh from what you had witnessed, and a little bit weirded out from the image you wouldn’t be able to get out of your head for a while.

“What’s up with Toothless?” Dean asked, rubbing his palms togethers as his eyebrows shot up, curious to find out what the story was on this bizarre addition to the hunt. “Cavity Creeps get ahold of him?”

“Yeah. Close. He wrote a description,” You fetched out your notepad and opened it to the exact spot where you had him write down everything when talking became too painful. “Five-ten, three hundred and fifty pounds, wings, and a pink tutu.”

“So he’s whacked out on painkillers.” Dean said, seeming to believe for himself that this entire story might be mixing with his memories from the night before and the side effects of the medication.

“Maybe.” Sam shrugging off his brother’s opinion when there was another piece of information that you had left out. “Whatever it was got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Come on. Tooth fairy?”

“And it left thirty-two quarters underneath his pillow, one for each tooth.” You said, giving him more information that linked with the myth. “Which is a total rip off, if you ask me. I always got a dollar when I was younger.”

“I see your crazy and raise you some. There’s a couple of kids upstairs with stomach ulcers—said they got it mixing Pop Rocks and coke. Another guy, his face…” Dean shared a few more strange occurrences that were happening around. You’d done the Pop Rocks and Coke dare when you were a kid, despite what people said, nothing ever happened. But when he trailed off from what else he was going to say, Dean waved a hand around his face, as if he was trying to demonstrate. “Froze that way.”

Sam furrowed his brow, “What way?”

Dean looked in all directions of the hospital hallway as if he was trying to make sure nobody was looking at him. He put his index finger in his mouth and pulled out his cheeks as his eyes crossed,doing the exact same expression the man had done. A second later, he returned back to normal, fearful that he might become victim of whatever happened to the man. too “He, uh, held it too long and it—it got stuck. They’re flying in a plastic surgeon.”

“Huh. My mom always told me not to roll my eyes as a kid. ‘They’ll permanently get stuck up there.’” You mocked her warning as you found yourself starting to roll your eyes, but when you realized everything that was going on here, you quickly looked straight over at Dean, suddenly afraid it might happen. You watched as he wiggled his chin and poked at his cheeks, too caught up in his own anxiety to head what you had said. “So, if you add all of that up…” You normally take an educated guess at what was happening, but you hesitated when the boys stared at you, wondering what you were going to say. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

You shrugged your shoulders, deciding you were fresh out any possible theory that could explain what the hell was going on in this town. You began heading down the hallway with Sam, Dean following behind a few seconds later when he realized where the both of you were going. "I thought sea-monkeys were real.” Dean admitted, you glanced over at him as you slipped your notepad back into your pocket.

“They are.” Sam said. “They’re brine shrimp.”

“No, no, no, I mean like in the ads. You know, like the sea-monkey wife cooks pot roast for the sea-monkey husband, and the sea-monkey kids play with the dog in a sea-monkey castle—real. I mean, I was six, but I believed it.” Dean said. You nodded your head as your brow furrowed, wondering what he was trying to get from the confession. He stopped slowly in his tracks, you and his brother followed to discuss further what Dean was trying to get at. “Point is, maybe that’s the connection. The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they’re all lies that kids believe.”

“And now they’re coming true. Okay, so whatever’s doing this is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or…” You thought about the possibilities of monsters that could be responsible for causing chaos in this small town. It only took a split second before the perfect person popped itself into your head. A frown stretched across your lips when you spoke his name. “Or a trickster.”

"Yeah,” Dean agreed, “with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old.”

“Or you.” Sam remarked to his older brother.

You couldn’t help yourself but quietly chuckled at the look that crossed Dean’s face. He was about to open his mouth to protest the accusation, but a short second later, he shrugged his shoulders, agreeing. The three of you headed down the hallway once more, knowing there was some more research to do before pointing fingers at old enemies.

\+ + +

A few hours after arriving from the hospital, Sam took the Impala to follow a few leads as you decided on digging up whatever incriminating information the victims might have hidden away. If you were dealing with the trickster, you knew he had a motive for going after people he always believed deserved a good punishment. From what you could find, the two victims who had died were squeaky clean, and the rest were just normal citizens, nothing incriminating stood out to you. You had only a few encounters with the trickster, but considering that he only went after people that deserved it in his eyes, you began to wonder if you should be looking for someone different. You had been here only fifteen minutes, deciding to join Dean to tell him what found, you attention drifted away from your computer screen and to the man sitting across the table. Your eyes narrowed slightly as Dean kept himself occupied by making yet another ham sandwich, making it his second since you stepped into their room.

While you were tempted to comment about his eating habits, the motel room door swung open, Sam stepped inside with something in his grip. He was barely here for a few seconds before he noticed his brother taking whatever scraps of meat he could find, deciding it was better to eat than throw away the day old meat that was probably no longer good. “Dude, seriously—still with the ham?”

Dean paused his chewing to give a muffled response, “We don’t have a fridge.”

“Well I found something. Here.” Sam said. He headed over to the table and pushed away the plate holding the ham as you shut your laptop, giving him room as he put down the paper he was holding. You noticed it was a map of the town, and from the small markings, were small X spots, and as Sam pointed at each of them, you noticed it made a circle. “Un, tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you’ve got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer—all located within a two-mile radius.”

"So, we’ve got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality.” You said. You stood up and placed your hands on your hips, trying to summarize the best you could about what was going on in this town. “And what’s the a-bomb at its center?”

“Four acres of farmland and a house.” Sam answered for you.

You took into consideration of what might be lingering on the property, it could be holding what was going on here. You reached down to grab your laptop from the chair and cradled it into your arms so you wouldn’t drop it. “Our motel isn’t in that circle, by chance?” Dean curiously asked. You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was a little bit worried, probably wanting to make sure that none of you were in danger. But you were about to find out it was a little too late for that.

“Yeah. Why?” Sam glanced down at the map to see all of you were about a mile or so into the zone. He glanced over at his brother from the question, wondering why he wanted to know. You watched as the older Winchester shamefully lifted up his right hand. Unsure of why, you leaned forward slightly to take a closer look at his palm, wondering what the big deal was, only when you spotted a patch of hair, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a slight chuckle from what he was caught doing. Sam, however, wasn’t the least bit amused as you were. He quickly shut his eyes and looked away. “Oh, d-dude—That’s not what I think it is, is it?”

“I got bored.” Dean admitted, a bashful smile crept across his lips when he continued on. Sam looked at his brother with a disturbed look, not exactly wanting to think about any of this. “And it’s been forever since Y/N and I had any alone time—”

"Dude, stop. I’m already scarred for life.” Sam said, stopping his brother from admitting any personal information he didn’t need to hear about. "You know you can go blind from that, too.”

Dean made a fist with his palm, “Give me five minutes. We’ll go check out that house.”

The older Winchester thought it would be funny to lightly punch his little brother in the arm with his right hand, only for Sam to flinch. You rolled your eyes and began heading back to the door so you could go to your own motel room to change into your other clothes before heading out. As you reached out your free hand to turn the door handle, the shenanigans didn’t stop there. You heard Sam shout as a warning to the man, “Don’t use my razor!” But knowing Dean as he headed off to the bathroom, he was probably grinning, about to do exactly that.

\+ + +

You and the boys arrived at the house about twenty minutes and dressed in your usual formal gear for the job. You patted around in your pockets, making sure you had all the necessary items before getting out of the car and heading for the front door. From the outside everything seemed normal, it was a big enough two-story farm house with a spacious space, and from the car parked in the driveway, somebody lived here. But the missing plates made you figure out nobody could be home. Your hands adjusted the skirt you were wearing, making sure it was properly facing the right way, and the demon knife you had stuck in was safely hidden from behind your blazer. Sam did the honors of picking the lock, it shouldn’t have taken no more than a few seconds, but you might have overlooked the idea that you were alone here. Your neck whipped forward when you heard the door open not a second later, Sam quickly pulled the tools out of the door and stood up straighter.

You were expecting to see an adult standing in the doorway with a suspicious look, wondering what three strangers were standing on their porch. But you found yourself making eye contact with a boy, and from the looks of it, he was no more than eleven years old.

“Can I help you?” He cautiously asked.

“Hi,” You greeted the little boy with a friendly smile, “What’s your name?”

“Who wants to know?” He answered your question with another. You raised your brow from his quick tongue, but you fetched out your badge, telling him you were FBI, thinking that would be good enough to gain his trust. But it seemed it wasn’t. The boy snatched it out from your hand to take a closer inspection, after a moment, he looked up at you. “So, what, you guys don’t knock?”

"Are your parents home?” Dean asked in a polite tone.

“They work.” The boy answered back.

“Well, Sam tried his luck at changing the boy’s mind about the three of you. “You mind if we ask you a few questions, maybe take a look around the house?”

The boy responded with an apprehensive stare, unsure if this was a good idea. “Come on. You can trust us.” Dean said, trying to change his mind. “We’re the authorities.”

It seemed what Dean had said made the boy change his mind, you were granted access inside just a moment later. The little boy headed straight for the kitchen, you curiously looked around the place as you followed behind him. The sound of something boiling caught your attention. You looked forward to see there was a pot on the stove and a can opened, connecting the dots, it seemed you have disrupted the boy while he was making his lunch. You glanced over at the table to see that he had everything set up for the meal. He headed over to the stove to turn it off and stir the contents inside the pot so it wouldn’t burn.

“What’s that?” You curiously asked him.

“It’s called soup.” He answered. You couldn’t help yourself but smile at his remarks as he grabbed the pot by the handle. He headed over to the table and set it down on a pot holder so it wouldn’t burn the table. “You heat it up, and you eat.”

“Right, I know. It’s just,” You took a few steps over to him as you let out a quiet chuckle from his sarcasm that seemed to come naturally to him. “I used to make my own dinner, too, when I was a kid sometimes.”

“Well, I’m not a kid.” He said, taking offense to the term.

“Right. No, of course not.” You agreed with him. You stared at him for a moment or so. For some reason, there was something about him that struck you as interesting. You put your hand in front of you for him to shake. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He reached out and shake your hand, “Jesse.”

“Did you draw this?” Dean asked. You looked over your shoulder to see the man walking forward with a piece of paper in his hands, you noticed it was of a crayon drawing, but as you took a moment to inspect it further, you realized it was exactly like how the man who had gotten all his teeth ripped out his attacker. Jesse nodded his head, saying it was the tooth fairy. Dean flipped it around so he could look at it with a bit more detail. “That’s what you think the tooth fairy looks like, huh?”

“Yeah. My dad told me about him.” Jesse said. You noticed it wasn’t what your mother told you of what the tooth fairy looked like. She wasn’t the one to paint the imaginative figure as someone you would be afraid to accidentally meet in the middle of the night. But father figures tended to tell different tales to their children so they wouldn’t expect a special award. “What, didn’t your dads tell you about the tooth diary?”

“My dad?” Dean chuckled as he placed the piece of paper down to the table for safekeeping so he wouldn’t ruin it. “My dad told me different stories.”

“Well, the tooth fairy isn’t a story.” Jesse said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Something inside you clicked at what he said, you glanced down at the drawing, noticing the detail was far too perfect for there not to be a connection here. “Jesse,” You looked over at the little boy to see what his response would be. “What do you know about itching powder?”

“That stuff will make you scratch your brains out.”

“Pop Rocks and Coke?”

“You mix them, you’ll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that.” Jesse said. He answered all of your questions with the right response, but there was just one more that you wanted to see if he would respond correctly with. You pulled out the joy buzzer from your pocket, Jesse’s eyes widened slightly in fear. “You shouldn’t have that. It can electrocute you.”

“Actually, it can’t. It’s just a wind-up toy. It’s totally harmless.” You reassured him. “Doesn’t even have batteries.”

“So, it can’t shock you?” Jesse asked.

“Nope. Not at all. I swear.” You said. Jesse took your word on what you were saying, he nodded his head slowly, changing his mind on the toy. “All it does is shake in your hand. It’s kind lame. See?” Without a warning, you were testing your theory by placing the buzzer against Sam’s chest, who was staring at you with a panicked expression from what you were about to do. But all he got was a bit of a vibrations he could barely feel, Jesse let out a laugh from his over dramatic response. You could feel your lips stretch into a smile. “What was your name again, kiddo?”

Jesse answered all of your questions exactly how you thought he would. Childhood innocence was a thing that should be cherished, and while most of the lies parents told them for good measures, this was making other people face the once fictional consequences. You said your final goodbyes to Jesse, deciding you had gotten exactly what you needed, you left him to finish his lunch that would be getting cold soon. The boys followed behind as you pocketed the buzzer, a smile stretching across your lips, for some reason you could see yourself in Jesse. He was a little boy who still believed in lies that most kids his age stopped believing a long time ago. Not to mention the feeling of being home alone, having to cooks meals for yourself and finding ways to pass the time when your mother was away during the weekends when she had to spend it working at countless school functions. You headed down the porch steps, not thinking much about the near death experience you pulled on Sam, but he was still very much pissed.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam questioned you, running down the steps so he could catch up with you.

You shrugged your shoulders, not seeming to think what the big deal was. “I had a hunch.” You said. “I went with it.”

Sam didn’t exactly show the same enthusiasm for your spontaneous thinking as you did. “You risked my ass on a hunch?!” He hissed at you.

“You’re fine, Sasquatch. I’m the brains of this group, remember? And besides, now we know who’s turning this town into Willy Wonka’s nightmare.” You said. You stopped right between the white picket fence and glanced over at the house you had just exited from. “Everything Jesse believes come true. He believes the tooth fairy looks like Belushi, joy buzzers really shock people. That’s what really happens.”

“Yeah. But convince him the joy buzzers don’t actually work, and they go from killing machines to crap toys.” Sam said, catching on to the theory you knew was too good not to be true.

“He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it.” You said. All fingers pointed at the kid, but you couldn’t jump to conclusions that he was doing this out of fun to get back at people he probably didn’t even know. He was just a normal kid in a small town, not know what kind of power he held. You glanced over at the house and to the window on the second story floor. Jesse moved the curtains so he stare at the three of you from a distance. You reached up an arm and waved at him, giving the boy a friendly smile. For some reason there was something about him, something inside of him that wasn’t good, but you knew it wasn’t his fault. You turned around on your heels and began walking back to the Impala and asked the frustrating question, “How is he doing it?”

\+ + +

There was something about having little kids being involved on hunts that made you more protective of them, it made you work more diligently, pushing yourself for answers to make sure the job got done right. It wasn’t that you slacked before. It was just that you wanted to protect the innocence of the youth for long as possible. You couldn’t help but feel that for Jesse, only on a much larger scale. It took you a few hours of taking to a dozen people on the phone and doing a few illegal activities that would get you into trouble with the law, but you found exactly what you wanted. You headed back to the motel in the late afternoon with a case file in your had, the papers still a bit warm after you printed them from the library. You didn’t even knock when you opened up the door to the boys’ room, you wanted this out so you could leave early tomorrow morning. 

Dean was sitting on the bed with his legs kicked out and doing research by skimming through an old looking book, Sam remained at the table from the last time you saw him with his laptop, digging for whatever he could find about what might be going on here. You, however, found the golden ticket. “So, I dug up what I could about Jesse Turner. It’s not much. ‘B’ student, won last year’s Pinewood derby contest. But get this,” You walked over to Dean and lightly smacked his bare foot with the file you’d been carrying before sitting at the edge of the bed so you were now facing Sam. “Jesse was adopted. His birth records are sealed.”

“Naturally, you being Nancy Drew, unsealed them and found…?” Dean wondered what the big info was that you were keeping from them. You looked over your shoulder and gave the man a smallest smile from the nickname you haven’t heard him use on you in what felt like forever.

“There’s no father listed, but the little bugger had to come from somewhere. Jesse’s biological mom is named Julia Wright. And get this,” You said, giving the boys the real kicker. “She lives in Elk Creek, on the other side of the state.”

\+ + +

Early the next morning, you and the boys headed back on the road, taking a trip across state to Elk Creek so speak to this Julia Wright. You couldn’t find almost anything on her, it was almost like she dropped off the face of the earth after giving birth. When you arrived, you noticed right away Julia’s house seemed a bit worn down and secluded, and when you headed for the gate that surrounded all of her house, she added a measure to her Boo Radley feel by hanging up a “No Trespassing” sign to ward off any unwanted visitors. You weren’t intimidated as you pushed open the gate door that was covered in overgrown weeds as the boys followed behind, heading straight for the front door.

You patiently stood outside on the porch as Dean did the honors of ringing the doorbell, and waiting for someone to answer. You mindlessly looked down at her locks to examine them for a second or so, but you found yourself furrowing your brow in confusion, taking notice when there was two deadbolts along with the handle that required a key. Either Julia had some neighbors a few miles down the road needed to keep away from, or the woman really didn’t like visitors. You seemed to have gotten the vibe when a woman’s voice came from behind the door, making her presence known. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.”

Dean looked over at you and his brother, he was rather baffled himself at the very cold welcoming. “We’re not salesman. Agent Page,” He introduced the three of you to the woman who was standing on the opposite side of the door, cautiously watching you from the peephole. “These are my partners Agent Plant and Agent Patterson, FBI.”

You reached inside your pocket and pulled out your badge, putting up to the small peephole next to the brothers so Julia could inspect it from behind the door. But it seemed you didn’t gain her trust just yet, she required one more step. “Put your badge in the slot. Your partners’, too.” Julia instructed. You folded up the badge and did what you were told, you slipped it into the mail slot for her to cautiously examine. She spent a moment or so, trying to find just a spec of a flaw, but the badges fooled even the real FBI. You heard her unlock the deadbolt, and a few more from the locks clicking back into place. It seemed like a production before the door swung open, Julia handed back the badges without even cracking a smile. “What do you want”?

“Um,” Sam was taken back by the woman’s bluntness. He put his badge back into his jacket pocket, Julia stared at him with a cold expression, still wanting to know what this was all about. “We just had a few questions. About your son.”

“I don’t have a son.” She answered with a short tone. 

“He was born March twenty-ninth, nineteen ninety-eight, in Omaha.” You said, thinking a bit more information would help jog her memory from eleven years ago. Julia looked over at you, her face remained expressionless. “You put him up for adoption?”

Like mother, like son.Julia answered your question with another one. “What about him?”

“We were just wondering…and I know this is gonna sound strange, just bare with me. But did you have a normal pregnancy?” You asked her, hopeful from the nervous smile that was starting to stretch across your lips Julia wouldn’t stare at you with a more offended look from the bold question. She didn’t even respond, so, you tried asking another one. “Was there anything strange?”

It seemed you finally struck a nerve in Julia. She slammed the door in your face and shouted on the top of her lungs, “Stay away from me!”

You didn’t have time to exchange a few worried looks from the outburst you weren’t expecting from the woman. Sam quickly reached out and opened the door before she could lock it, and despite reassuring Julia that you weren’t here to hurt her, the woman ran fast as she could to the other side of her house. You hated wearing heels for the job, it always slowed you down, but the boys managed to be faster, catching up with her in the matter of seconds. Julia tried to find shelter in the kitchen as she swung to slam the door again in their faces. But the Winchesters were much stronger. Julia realized she wasn’t capable of taking on two men that were twice the size of her, so she immediately reached behind her and grabbed a canister of salt from the counter. 

Julia swung the salt directly at you and the boys, expecting for some kind of painful reaction, but all she did was dirty up her floor as the salt fell to the floor. She furrowed her brow and looked at the three of you, as if she expected something else to happen. You stared back at her, surprised from what she said next. “You’re not demons.”

“How do you know about demons?”

It seemed the four of you had found common ground at trusting one another when Julia realized you weren’t possessed. You and the boys were now in the dining room, the boys sat at one end of the table, opposite of the woman as you took the head, watching as Julia gingerly sipped her tea. You made her some after you noticed she was still shaken up from the unexpected welcome knocking on her front door, bringing up the past she was desperately tried to forget. She took another sip before retiring the teacup to the saucer. Julia leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, now feeling comfortable enough to speak the truth. 

“I was possessed.” Julia admitted. “A demon took control of my body, and I hurt people. I killed people.”

You inhaled a breath, knowing the overbearing guilt of being possessed and doing horrible things, you remembered how Lilith tricked you, making you watch like a passenger in your body when she let that hellhound in, tearing his body apart. “That,” You tried to comfort her, but you seemed to have stumbled over your own words, guilt creeping into you for a moment as you subconsciously looked over at Dean for a split second before back to her. You nervously swallowed and tried to speak again. “That wasn’t you.”

“But I was there. I heard a woman beg for mercy. I…” Julia trailed off, she focused on the chipped and fading floral design on her tea cup. You noticed her eyes glazed over from what she admitted next. “Felt a young girl’s blood drip down my hand.”

“That’s how you knew about the salt.” Dean said, Julia nodded her head to answer.

“Yeah,” She said. “I picked up tricks. It was in my head for months.”

“How many months?”

“Nine.”

 

“Oh.” You whispered, not expecting to hear the unexpected news. Never have you seen or heard a demon taking possession of a pregnant woman, but you didn’t think much of it. “So your son…”

“Yeah, the whole time. The pregnancy, birth—all of it. I was possessed.” Julia admitted the three of you. “The night the baby was born, I was alone. And the pain was—the pain was overwhelming. I, I screamed, and it came out a laugh, because the demon was happy. It used my body to give birth to a child. When it was over, something changed.” You quietly listened to her story, trying to imagine what she could have gone through. “When it was over, something changed. Maybe the—the demon was tired or if the pain helped me fight it, but… Somehow, I took control.And the demon wailed inside me. It pounded against my skull. I thought my head was gonna explode. But I knew. I knew what I had to do.”

Julia shifted her weight on the chair as she leaned forward slightly, her hands wrapped around the warm cup, feeling the heat seep into her skin. She remembered how she had crawled across the cement floors, how disgusting the rock salt she shoved down her throat felt, and every second of the grueling labor pains. You watched as she almost mindlessly drifted off to her old memories, her arms fumbled away from the cup, only to make it seem she was holding a newborn baby, caught up in the vivid memories of that night eleven years ago. “And when I was alone with the baby…A part of me…part of me wanted to kill it. But, God help me, I couldn’t do that. So, I put it up for adoption, and I ran.”

“I noticed on the birth certificate you were the only parent listed. “ You said. “Who was the father?”

“I was a virgin.” Julia responded, almost as if she was discussing the weather. You found yourself frozen in your spot at the table, her answer made your blood run cold as the silence seemed to have grown thicker around the room. If she was possessed when she was still a virgin, and if the demon got her pregnant…You were lost in your own personal thoughts, terrified for what this might actually mean, you accidentally jumped out of your skin when the woman spoke up again, having a few questions of her own. “Have you seen my son? Is he human?”

“His name’s Jesse. He lives in, uh, Alliance.” You told her. Your lips stretched into a faint smile she made eye contact with you, it was easy to see that she was nervous, afraid of what had come from this. “He’s a good kid.”

Julia nodded her head, your words gave her a bit of hope that, just maybe, her biological spring off didn’t inherit something evil from his second mother. You reached out and touched her hand, giving it a tight squeeze, knowing you understood everything she was going through, from being possessed to thinking might be wrong with Jesse, and even yourself. You left your cell phone with her, telling Julia to call you if there was anything more she could remember, and if she was feeling even the slightest bit in danger. When demons were involved, things had a tendency of getting messy, no matter how long they were away.

 

You and the boys said your final goodbyes to Julia and headed out the front door, exiting the way you had come in. Things had gone from a little complicated all the way up there to disastrous. You needed help, and not just from Bobby, you needed someone who knew more about things that just went bump in the night and what would happen if a demon got pregnant with a baby. Without wasting a second, you pulled out your phone and called Cas, hoping he would know what to do.

\+ + +

You and the boys arrived back at the motel just after sunset, you were exhausted from the long trip back and forth across the state, and the information that was digesting inside of your head. At first it seemed unlikely it was possible Jesse could be demonic, he seemed like a sweet and innocent from the few minutes you’ve spent with him. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe your judgment was playing tricks on you, making you think Jesse was just another child who had no idea the power he was capable of, and everything was just a pure, innocent accident. Maybe, just maybe, he was an evil little thing who was having a bit of fun, perhaps pushing his abilities he was growing into and and with the help of his demonic mother she turned him into the perfect liar. Your hunter instincts would have believed that. But it was the other side, the one which made you look for the best in everyone, that made you believe Jesse was a kid who had no idea what he was doing. 

You followed behind the boys into their motel room to grab the case file you left on the table before heading off to your own room so you could get out of these stupid heels. The light was turned on by Sam, stopping in the doorway for a brief second so he could figure out where he was going. He noticed right away there was somebody in the room, but a second later, you leaned over the boys’ tall frames to see it was the angel himself occupying by the silence, waiting for you and the boys to arrive back. Cas sat in the corner of the room with his position facing the doorway. He must have popped in when you left him the voicemail and waited in the darkness of the room until then.

“I take it you got our message.” Sam said, heading for the table as you and his brother walked inside.

“It’s lucky you found the boy.” Cas said. entire world.

“Oh, yeah, real lucky.” You remarked to the angel, shutting the door behind you as you finally took the chance to kick your heels off in the direction of one of the beds, not particularly caring where they had ended up. “What do we do with the boy?”

Cas responded not a second later, “Kill him.”

You accidentally stumbled in your footing from the answer, making you roughly lean against the door, Sam tugged on his tie to loosen it, but he stopped dead in his tracks. The brothers stared at the angel with absolute bewilderment, but it was you who questioned his motives, not knowing you were about to open Pandora’s box. All of the years you kept it hidden, now, thanks to Jesse, it would all be put on the table for discussion. “What?”

“This child is half human and half demon, but it’s far more powerful than either. Other cultures called this hybrid cambion or katako.” Cas explained to the three of you. He still had a few things to learn about keeping secrets and finding out when the timing for admitting dangerous information. You felt like you could sink into the ground and dismiss yourself for the rest of your life. And knowing Cas, he wasn’t done talking, he just had to continue talking, dragging your name through the mud without even saying it. “There’s only two cambions known in the entire world. Jesse is one of them. You might know him as the antichrist.”

Sam opened his mouth and ask the question that made your fingernails dig into the splintered wood in nervousness, "And what about the other one?”

“The other cambion is far less powerful than the antichrist, but still plays an important part to the apocalypse. All of you understand that Lucifer could only be freed if he had an anchor, per se, that keeps him grounded on earth. It was intended for a way for him to understand the creation of humanity. But Lucifer made a creation that was part human and part demon. With both of these cambions together in the same town, who knows what they could be capable of.” Cas decided to give the boys a bit of a history lesson of information they had already learned before. You inhaled a deep breath as you watched the angel turn his gaze away from the boys, and almost felt like time was moving in slow motion, you made eye contact with his icy blue ones. “That’s why Y/N needs to leave town. She’s the other cambion. With her and Jesse together, who knows what either one of them are capable of.”

Just like that, the word was out, and you’ve been called a lot of things over the past few years. Most of them was mutt. You first heard it from the infamous demon, Meg, you brushed it off nothing more than an insult she used to get under your skin. But then as time progressed more, and the layers of the apocalypse with the plans Yellow Eyes had intended, things started to become more clear. You learned more things about yourself, and came to terms with the idea that you weren’t…well, all that human. Part of you never wanted to tell the brothers, you were afraid of their natural reaction, and what might come after it. You’ve had dreams about this very particular moment, too. Mostly they ended with them kicking you out, abandoning you forever. But when your anxiety skyrocketed and things became too emotional for you to handle, the dreams turned more deadly, you would wake up in a cold sweat when one of the boys killed you in cold blood when your nightmare ended.

Silence wasn’t a good sign. You were at least expecting Dean to chuckle to himself, thinking Cas must have gotten some bad intel as Sam jumped for your defense from the harsh accusation. But the room was dead silent. You could only hear your pounding heart against your chest, it was beating so loud, you wondered if it was going to leap out of your chest. After what felt like a lifetime, you finally gathered the courage to stop staring at the carpet and faced the man you loved and your best friend. You were honestly expecting cold and disturbed looks from hearing this information, but when you looked in the Winchester’s direction, you were rather surprised to see them so…calm.

When you looked a little further into their expression, you noticed both of them looked uneasy, but it wasn’t the kind of look that seemed like they were disheartened by the news. They seemed more like they were guilty of keeping a secret themselves, and it was finally out. But the act only lasted for a few seconds, only before they jumped back into their normal selves, doing the exact behavior you expected after the information processed in their minds.

Dean chuckled to himself as he shuffled around in his footing, trying his hardest to act as if what he just heard was a bad practical joke the angel was playing on him. “Come on, Cas. We’ve been hearing a lot of different stuff these days from angels and demons. That’s a harsh accusation you’re throwing Y/N’s way.”

“Dena’s right. We can’t trust everything we hear right now.“ Sam added, jumping to your defense, just the way he would. He thought about how you were brought into this world, by a demon deal no less, it would make anybody think it might lead to a child that wasn’t fully human. “It’s like saying….all left handed people are the spawn of Satan.”

“I don’t understand. Y/N is left handed. And she is, per se, a spawn of Lucifer. He demanded her to be made. But that has no correlation with one another. It’s just a pure coincidence.“ Cas furrowed his brow from what the Winchester brothers were saying. You covered your face with your hands from the conversation that was turning south, and going a direction you didn’t know if you should laugh or start cringing at everything that was happening all at once. "All of you have known the truth for quite some time. Why are you still lying to one another?”

“Wait. You…The both of you knew?” You dropped your hands to your side again from what you just heard. You looked over at the boys, your face scrunching up in anger at what Cas had just said. The boys immediately dropped their gaze to the floor and, just like that, their guilt was coming back. “Let me guess, this is some ‘See no evil. Speak no evil’ crap, isn’t it?”

You were tempted to hear their side of the story to get some deserved answer, but before anyone could make eye contact, you found the tension in the room ease up the slightest from what happened next.

Slowly, you looked away from the brothers, and to the table where Cas had innocently taken a seat across from Sam. You furrowed your brow when you heard a farting noise coming from the direction of the angel. Cas tried to adjust himself in his seat, hoping it would stop, only it continued on for a few more seconds before the room fell silent. “That wasn’t me.” Cas defended himself, knowing he wasn’t capable of human bowel movements, or in the need for them. He lifted himself up from the seat to pull out what appeared to be a deflated whoopee cushion. Your face fell as your eyes wandered over to the older Winchester, knowing he was to blame for the tasteless prank that must have been intended for his little brother.

“Who put that there?” Dean innocently asked, trying his hardest not to smile. You rolled your eyes in frustration, suddenly overwhelmed with anger at what was going on here.

“Anyways, I don’t get it.” Sam turned his attention to the angel sitting in front of him. “You’re saying Y/N and Jesse are the Devil’s kids?”

“No, of course not. Your bible gets more wrong than it does right. Y/N and the antichrist are not Lucifer’s children. This child is a demon spawn, as Y/N has a soul almost close to a demon. It would take far less torture for her to become a full demon like other human souls. But with the demon blood Sam has given you and the previous torture in Hell you’ve endured from Dean, it’s likely you’re capable of powerful things, Y/N.” Cas explained more infromation to you about things that you didn’t know. You found yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest, your hand resting against where you could feel your steadying heartbeat. “But the antichrist is one of the Devil’s greatest weapons in the war against heaven.”

“Well, if Jesse’s a demonic howitzer, then what the hell’s he doing in Nebraska?” Dean asked.

“The demons lost him. They can’t find him.” Cas said. “But they’re looking.”

“And they can’t find him because…”

“Because of the child’s power. It hides him from both angels and demons.” Cas said. You could feel his eyes slowly linger itself over to you, as if you might give the little boy’s whereabouts out to the things you wanted to protect him from. “For now.”

“So, he’s got, like a forcefield around him.” Dean said. He was trying his hardest to think of the positive from all the information he was hearing, and give advice that might help steer away from the plan that would cut a child’s life short. “Well, that’s great. Problem solved.”

“With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life—something that will draw the demons to him.” Cas warned all of you. “The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a word, this child will destroy the host of heaven.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” You stopped the angel, suddenly finding all the information that you were hearing all at once overwhelming for you to handle all at once. “You’re saying that—that Jesse’s soul purpose is to to take out all the angels?”

Cas nodded his head, “We cannot allow that to happen.”

You and the brothers did a lot of things that were frowned up in a civilized society. They drank too much, stole from the innocent, had countless people die in their place and so many other things that kept you up at night. But there were things that you would never do. And what Cas was asking of you, that wasn’t one of them. You pushed yourself up from the door and walked forward to the table, protesting this idea before the boys could.

“Wait, wait, wait—Wait a minute.” You shook your head, nervously you let out a quiet chuckle from what was happening all at once. You felt lightheaded as your nerves were getting the best of you, making you speak first before your brain could process what might lead to fatal consequences. “We’re the good guys. We—We just don’t kill children.”

Cas didn’t like your answer. You heard the legs of the wooden chair scrape against the floor, and before you knew it, he was right in your face, not backing down from the plan he suggested. “A year ago, you and the Winchesters would have done whatever it took to win this war.”

“Funny. A year ago, you would have nuked an entire town to save just one seal.” You argued with him, pointing your index finger directly into his face. You weren’t going to back down from him. Whenever it seemed you and Cas were getting along, a situation always made you butt heads with him and put all of you back at square one. “Things change. I always thought you did. But looks like I was wrong. You’re still the same ignorant, spineless son of a bitch that wants to kill anything that is just a bit different.”

“I didn’t kill you.”

“Yeah, because I served a purpose for everyone. Jesse doesn’t.”

“Okay, okay. Break it up you two.” Dean jumped into the argument before either one of you could start throwing punches. You didn’t realize your fingers wrapped themselves into a tight fist before Dean reached out and gently placed a hand on your arm, pulling you away from the angel. You let out sharp breath, your eyes never leaving Cas as the both of you stared at one another. “Look, we are not going to kill him. All right? But we can’t leave Jesse here. Either. We know that. So..we’ll take him to Bobby’s. He’ll know what to do.”

“You’ll kidnap him?” Cas speculated. Dean looked over at his brother, shrugging his shoulders as the both of them contemplated about the plan of action that sounded decent in their mind. But Cas knew that was dangerous for all of you. “What is going on in this town, it’s what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do when it’s angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be around halfway around the world.”

“So we—”

"So we tell him the truth.” You cut off the older Winchester, knowing out of anyone in this room, you were exactly like Jesse. And you knew how scared he would be if someone was coming after him with black eyes or someone from above he probably was made to believe was supposed to be the good guy. You were thrusted into this lifestyle without someone explaining what you were. You had to learn the hard way, but with this, maybe you could make things different for Jesse. “You say Jesse’s destined to go dark side—fine. But he hasn’t yet. So if we lay it all out for him—what he is, the apocalypse, everything—he might make the right choice.”

Cas turned his head to look at you. The room fell to a complete silence for what felt like forever, until, the angel spoke up. ”You didn’t. None of you did.“

"I didn’t know what I was. Nobody told me before it was too late.That’s why we’re here.” You said, not falling for the petty jabs he was throwing your way. Cas stared at you, not saying a single word, but you could tell from his facial expressions that he didn’t change his mind. He was going to actually attempting at ending a child’s life early. “You touch a single hair on his head, and I swear—”

You tried your hardest to change the angel’s mind before he would do something that could haunt him forever. You wanted him to open his mouth and agree, deciding what you had said was good enough for him to believe. But it wasn’t. When you blinked, you noticed a gentle breeze touched your cheeks, and nobody was standing across from you. Cas was gone. You clenched your fingers into a tight fist and hissed a few inappropriate words underneath your breath.

\+ + +

You and the boys didn’t waste a second before you were heading back to the Turner residence. You didn’t even wait for Dean to park the car properly before you were ripping open the backseat door and running across the street so you could make it to the front door before it was too late. The boys followed behind just seconds after you, but you were the first one to put your hands on the door handle, where you hoped it would be magically unlocked. But you found that Jesse was smart enough to keep it bolted up. You were about to pound on the door to make him open up, but before you could, Dean decided on a much quicker effort. You were yanked backwards, and before you could question of what Dean was trying to do, he swung up a leg and broke down the door without breaking a sweat. All of you headed inside, fearful that you might have been too late.

You walked inside the living room, keeping yourself at a slower pace, but you frantically looked around the room hoping to find Jesse safe. You turned your head just in time to see the little boy in the corner of the room, with the expression on his face, something happened while you were gone. Your lips stretched into a smile as you let out a sigh of relief, happy to see that he was unharmed without a scratch on him. As you approached the little boy, you made to proceed with caution, still keeping in mind of the warnings Cas had given you.

"Was there a man here? About this tall?” You asked the boy, keeping your voice fairly normal as you gestured the estimated of the angel’s height with your arm. “In a trench coat?”

Jesse nervously answered your question by pointing a shaky finger to the ground. You furrowed your brow slightly from what he was doing, but you followed where his finger pointed. Glancing down to the floor, you noticed there was something just a few feet from where you stood. It almost appeared like an action figure of some sort. You took a few steps forward and grabbed the toy from the ground so you could take a further inspection of it. When you took notice of the facial features and what it was wearing, you noticed not even a second later that it was Castiel. He was turned into a toy. Your mouth parted open ever so slightly in surprise as your eyes jumped to the little boy, who looked more scared at what he’d done than anyone in this room.

For a moment you were overcome with confusion at what was going on here, but when you realized Jesse was still staring at you, his eyes just as wide, you decided it was best to take your plan of action. You composed yourself and offered Jesse to take a seat on the couch, he was safe. Dean took ahold of the new action figure, Cas, and stared at it for a few moments. Jesse walked over to the couch and took a seat, he watched as Dean stared at the small plastic toy before putting him up to the fireplace for safekeeping.

“Was he your friend?” Jesse asked all of you.

You pointed your finger at the toy, wondering if that’s what he meant. “Him? No, he wasn’t.”

“I did that.” Jesse said. He stared at the boy for a few seconds as his brow furrowed. “But how did I do that?”

This was the part where you dreaded the entire car ride here. You looked away from Jesse and to the boys who were standing right next to you. All though you wanted to tell him the truth, you couldn’t risk the chance of having him get angry and do something far worse than turn all of you into toys without a chance of getting you back to normal. So, you decided to take a swing at this, telling him the truth in the most gentle way possible. You took a step forward to him and crouched down at his level, you gave him a smile at the little white lie you were about to tell him.

"You’re a super hero, Jesse.” You told him with an exciting tone, and when he looked at you with surprise, you could feel your smile growing, and your heartbreaking for what you were really trying to say. “Yeah. I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy? You’re Superman—minus the cape and spandex. See, my partners and I,” You gestured to the boys with a nod of your head, “we work for a secret government agency. It’s our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we’re here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you’ll be trained to fight evil.”

“Like the X-Men?” Jesse asked, you nodded your head with eagerness.

“Exactly like the X-Men.” You reassured him. Jesse chuckled as he started to smile with excitement, which was a good sign for you. “In fact, the guy we’re taking you to—he’s even in a wheelchair. You’ll be a hero. You’ll save lives. Sounds like fun, right?”

Before you could get an answer from Jesse, the perfect moment you’d been trying to build up was ruined, by an unwanted guest that had been gone for the past eleven years. You turned your head at the exact time an invisible force thrusted Dean into the air, all before pinning him against the wall.

“They’re lying to you.”

That voice, you’d heard it earlier this morning. You quickly jumped to your feet and grabbed Jesse by the arm, hiding him behind your body when you noticed it was Julia, but from her black eyes, she wasn’t here, it was the demon that possessed her all those years ago. Sam was about to attack the demon, but before he could, he was in the same predicament as his brother. “Stay right there, dreamboat. Can’t hurt you. Or, your little friend here. Orders.” You narrowed your eyes when the demon turned her attention over to you for a moment, all before her focus turned to Dean. "You, on the other hand? Hurting you’s encouraged.”

Your hands wrapped tighter around Jesse’s shoulders as you watched Dean suddenly fly across the room, heading face first into the wall, all before being slammed into the other wall again, joining his brother. “Leave him alone, you black eyed whore!” You spat at her.

“Language, Y/N. Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?” The demon asked. You gave him a cold stare, but it only lasted for so long, all before you found yourself being roughly thrown against the wall when the demon flicked her wrist, wanting to see her child after all these years. You inhaled a deep breath and watched her every move. But the demon didn’t dare hurt the boy. She just bent down to his level to finally inspect every little detail on the boy’s face. "Jesse. You’re beautiful. You have your father’s eyes.“

"Who are you?” Jesse asked in a quiet tone.

“I’m your mother.” The demon answered with a warm smile.

Jesse shook his head, “No, you’re not.”

“Mmhmm. You’re half human,” Julia stood up to her full height to prove her point to the little boy as her eyes flickered black, “And half one of us.”

“She means demons, Jesse!” Dean warned the little boy.

But it seemed the demon didn’t like the interruption coming from the Winchester, she reached out a hand to silence the boys, and by that, she made sure it was hard for them to speak by clenching an invisible force around their throats. She looked over at you, daring to see if you would test her limits, you only glared at her from your position.

“Those people you call your parents—they lied to you, too. You’re not there's—not really.” Julia said. Jesse denied her claims by telling the demon that his parents loved him. She dared to question what he thought to believe was the truth. “Is—Is that why they leave you all day? Because they love you so much? These people—these imposters—they told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren’t true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. you’ve always known you weren’t theirs. You’ve always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you.” Whatever chance at gaining Jesse’s trust seemed to have vanished when the demon looked over at you and the boys, dragging you into this mess. “They’re not FBI agents. And you’re not a superhero.”

“Then what am I?” Jesse asked.

“You’re powerful. You can have anything you want.” The demon said, trying to persuade Jesse with a lifestyle that would come with a deadly cost. “You can do anything you want.”

“Don’t listen to her!” You tried warning him, but before you could say anything else, your head roughly banged itself against the wall. The demon snickered to herself at what she’d done.

“Don’t listen to Y/N, Jesse. She’s a traitor to her own kind. You’re so much better than her. Nobody trusted you. Everybody’s lied to you. Doesn’t that make you angry?” The demon asked a simple question, and she gotten a response that made her happy. Jesse wrapped his fingers into a tight fist, and before you knew it, the entire room felt like it was rattling. You nervously swallowed as you looked around to see that even the lights were flickering. “See? It does make you angry. But I’m telling you the truth, Jesse. Wouldn’t it be better if there were no lies? Come with me…and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that—a world without lies.”

Jesse was slowly getting worse. You watched as the fire that was quietly going began to grow even more as the objects around the room rattled, a few vases broke as the family picture hanging right above you slipped from the nail it was on, and went crashing to the ground. Glass was shattered across the ground as the happy family stared back at you. “She right. We lied to you.” You spoke up, your eyes jumping to the little boy as you gave him an apologetic look. “But I’ll tell you the truth. I just want to tell—” You tried your hardest to speak, but suddenly your words were cut off by the demon. Her eyes turned black again as she pointed an arm at your direction, making it feel as she wrapped her fingers around your throat, squeezing it to the point where it was getting harder to breathe. But you worked through the pain, wanting to finish your throat. “the truth.”

“Stop it.” Jesse ordered at the demon. And with the simple vocal command, you felt yourself inhale a breath of air, suddenly feeling the pressure around your throat disappear. You managed to push yourself to your feet when the invisible force holding you down vanished, too. Jesse watched you with a curious look in his eye. “I want to hear what she has to say.”

“You’re stronger than I thought.” The demon said.

You waited for the demon to try and make an attack, but when she remained still, you pushed yourself to your feet and focused all of your attention on Jesse. “We lied to you. And I’m sorry. So here’s the truth.” You said, deciding it was time to let it all out. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. These are my best friends, Sam and Dean Winchesters. We hunt monsters.”

“Except when you are the monster.” The demon said. “Right, Y/N?”

“And that woman right there, her name is Julia. She’s your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing that you’re talking to,” You explained to him, ignoring the taunting voice. “It’s a demon.”

“A demon?” Jessed asked, you could hear the confusion in his voice.

“She’s done nothing but lie to you since the moment you met her. Don’t listen to her.” The demon tried to persuade Jesse, she was only getting on your last nerve. “Punish her.”

“Sit down and shut up.” Jesse commanded. A chair from across the room suddenly flying forward without anyone touching it. The demon fell into the chair, and while she tried to speak, nothing came out. She was pinned to the chair and turned mute from Jesse’s command. You slowly looked over to him, suddenly nervous for what you were about to say to him, afraid how he would react.

“There’s, uh, kind of a…” You tried explaining your hardest to an eleven year old about the apocalypse, but it seemed harder than you thought it would be. “It’s a war between angels and demons, and…you’re a part of it.”

Jesse furrowed his brow, making you presume he had no idea what you were talking about, and how dangerous he really was. “I’m just a kid.”

“I know. And I understand how hard this is for all of you. You can go with her if you want. I can’t stop you. No one can. But if you do,” You warned him about the consequences with a gentle voice, trying your hardest to make this easy as you could for him. “Millions of people will die.”

“She said I was half demon.” Jesse said. “Is that true.”

“Yes. But you’re not alone. I’m just like you.” You told him, admitting the truth that you had been trying to hide from yourself for too many years. “We’re half human, too. You can do the right thing. You’ve got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Why are you telling me this?!” Jesse questioned you with his voice breaking, you could feel your eyes suddenly watering at what you were putting him through. It was bittersweet, but you knew it needed to be done. You walked over to him and crouched down to his level.

“Because I wish someone told me what I was when I was your age. If they did, a lot of people would still be alive. I could have made the right choices, but I didn’t. I need to make sure what happened to me doesn’t happen for you.” You said. You reached out and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “I’m sorry you’ve got to go through this, Jesse. I really am.”

You dropped your hand to your side, allowing Jesse to process and take the information as what you presented itself to be. You wondered if he was going to get angry again and lash out at all of you, but instead, he took you by surprise. You watched as Jesse turned his attention to the demon. He clenched his fist, and with a simple verbal command, he exorcised the demon. You watched as the cloud of black smoke escaped from her throat, all before disappearing into the fireplace, escaping into the night. You heard the loud thumping of bodies hitting the ground, finally after being kept in the air, the boys were free from whatever force that was keeping them there from the demon. You turned your head slowly to see how they were dealing with all of the information. For some reason, you found Dean’s reaction the most important, almost as if you were afraid he was going to look at you differently from what he found out tonight.

“How’d you do that?” Dean asked Jesse, he replied with shrugging his shoulders. The older Winchester, being the man that he was, cracked a smile as he gave a compliment that would only be appropriate from him. “Kid, you’re awesome.”

\+ + +

After the theatrics of tonight, battling a demon for her child and admitting a few truths that you thought would stay buried, you could feel yourself finally letting out a breath as you placed your hands on your hips. Jesse stood next to you, silently observing his real biological mother, who was passed out in the chair. You glanced down to Jesse when he looked over at you, deciding to ask if she would be all right. Julia seemed to have no physical marks on her body or blood spots on her clothes, it was the possession that wore her out. But for her emotional and mental wounds that were reopened tonight, you told him she would eventually recover.

Dean took a few steps over to the fireplace, he bent down to place the fence around the opening and put it back to its normal position, but his true motive was picking up the small toy of Cas that was knocked to the ground. He observed it for a few seconds before looking over at Jesse, deciding he would try his luck at asking for a favor. “Look, uh, the truth is, he’s kind of a buddy of mine. Is there anyway you could turn him back?”

“He tried to kill me.” Jesse said, you could hear the slightest amount of anger in his voice. You looked over at Dean and slightly shook your head, thinking it might be a good idea if all of you let Jesse calm down before making Jesse do anything else that might upset him. 

“Okay. It’s been a long night. We’ll…talk about it later.” Dean said, deciding to end the conversation at that before Jesse could add the older Winchester to this very lifelike adaption of Toy story. He looked at the toy for a moment until he slowly, almost gingerly, back to the fireplace mantel. Jesse asked the most important question of what now. What was going to happen now that the demon disappeared? You moved your arms away from your hips so they were now crossed over your chest, you glanced over at the boys, wondering how they wanted to approach this situation. “Now we take you someplace safe, get you trained up. You’d be handy in a fight, kid.”

“What if I don’t want to fight?” Jesse asked all of you.

You let out a quiet sigh from his question, and from the look on his face, you knew all of this was too much for him to process all at once. You walked over the couch, motioning him for you to follow behind. Both of you sat down next to each other, and started on a conversation that was about the darkness out there, and what it meant for him. “You’re powerful, Jesse. More powerful than pretty much anything we’ve ever seen. That makes you…”

“A freak.” Jesse finished your sentence, filling in with how he thought of himself now.

“To some people, maybe. To me, you’re not, because we’re a lot alike. Heck, everyone in this room is a bit of a freak. Well,” You pretended to lean forward and cover the side of your mouth so Jesse could only see what you were saying as you gave him a playful wink. “They’re a little bit weirder than us. And totally not as cool.” Jesse found himself quietly laughing at your remark that was directed at the brothers, you smiled at his reaction. But you could feel your heart slowly breaking when you watched as his smile fade when he asked the dreaded question you didn’t want to answer.

“I can’t stay here, can I?” He asked you with hesitance in his tone.

“No.” Dean answered for the boy, shaking his head. “The demons know where you are, and more will be coming.”

Jesse was silent for a few moments. He contemplated his choices, and while there wasn’t many, he decided that you were right about leaving. But only on his conditions. “I won’t go without my mom and dad.”

You bit the inside of your cheek from his command, you knew it wasn’t possible. You subconsciously looked over at the boys again, trying your hardest to gather the courage and tell Jesse that he couldn’t. Sam was always more of the empathetic one, he understood what it was like leaving one lifestyle behind for another. You couldn’t have your supernatural lifestyle at one point of the day and turn around to squeeze in some normalcy, it just didn’t work like that. “There’s nothing more important than family. We get that. And if you really want to take them with you, we’ll back your play.” He said. “But you gotta understand—it’s gonna be dangerous for them, too.”

Jesse furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“Our dad,” You looked over when Dean spoke up, “he would take us with im wherever he went.”

“Where is he now?” Jesse asked.

“Dead.” Sam answered. “A demon killed him.”

“And as much as we love for you to stay here with your parents, that’s not really possible, either. You would be only putting them in danger. My mom, she…she tried protecting me. Told me silly lies like your parents did. But she knew about demons and everything else. She’s the reason why I’m like this, too. Much as she tried running from who I was meant to be, it only got her killed.” You told him about your own past, hoping that would help him make the right decision. “Look, you can do whatever you want. But you gotta realize, once you’re in this fight, you’re in it till the end, win or lose.“

Jesse looked at the three of you with worry, he was only eleven years old, and you were asking him to make the biggest decision of his life. He didn’t know what to do, everything seemed like it was wrong. He tried asking for some much needed guidance from all of you, "What should I do?”

“We can’t tell you. It’s your choice.” Sam said. Jesse looked down at the ground, you could see the apprehension starting to creep into the boy’s eyes. “It’s not fair. I know.”

“Can I go see my parents?” Jesse asked. The question made you automatically stiffen, thinking that he was going to risk the attempt at bringing them along. But it seemed that he could tell what you were thinking. “I need to…say goodbye.”

You nodded your head, telling him to take his time, and come back when he was ready to put the next part of his choice into action. You watched as Jesse descended to the staircase, all before disappearing from your sight. A heavy sigh soon fell from your lips as you dropped your hands to your thighs. What you were about to do, bringing Jesse into this lifestyle where monsters that he saw in movies that his parents didn’t want him to watch and things that he thought were only shadows, were very much real. And he was one of them–a half demon, half human. You understood what the struggle felt like on the inside, of feeling like a freak in your own skin, wondering why this happened to you. But you understood that nobody had control over this. Julia was just an innocent teeanger at the time when she was dragged into this mess, being possessed by a demon that took total control over her body, giving her a child she didn’t want. Your mother did want a child. She sold her soul and willing to pay the price, but not knowing the severe consequences that would come after getting what she wanted.

You noticed that time slipped away when you were lost in your own personal thoughts. Jesse had been gone for the past ten minutes, it should have been enough time for him to say his very quiet goodbye to his sleeping parents. You and the boys shared a few glances, wondering if you should attempt at heading upstairs to see what was taking so long. Leaving Cas on top of the fireplace mantel, you did just that, the boys quietly following behind to the other part of the house, making sure not to step on any squeaky floorboards to announce your presence. You wandered around the hallway until finding Jesse’s bedroom door. Knocking quietly, you waited a moment for Jesse to open the door, but when you heard no response or the shuffle of feet from behind the door, you took the liberty to twist the handle and open the door.

You stepped inside the room to see it was empty, no trace of Jesse anywhere in sight. You furrowed your brow as you looked around to see if there was any clue of his whereabouts, but the bed was made, and nothing seemed out of place. “He’s gone.” You turned around on your heels when you heard a familiar deep and gravelly voice. Cas stood in the doorway, back to his normal self. You narrowed your eyes on him and asked where Jesse could have possibly went. “I don’t know. Jesse put everyone in town back to normal—the ones still alive. Then he vanished.”

The answer wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, the idea of Jesse running off on his own made you only feel worried of the trouble he might get himself into if he wasn’t safe. You let out a quiet sigh as you still cautiously looked around the room for anything, when you glanced down to the bed, you noticed there was a clue sitting on the pillow. You took a few steps forward and bent down to grab the folded up notebook paper that was ripped out. Opening it up, you read the short message, only for the disappointment to cross your face, making Dean ask what you had found.

“That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he’s sorry.” You said, giving them a brief summary of what Jesse had wrote to his parents. You folded the piece of paper back to normal and placed it back where you found it. All though you knew it was a waste of breath asking such a stupid question, you did anyway. “How can we find him?”

“With the boy’s powers, we can’t.” Cas said. “Not unless he wants to be found.”

You crossed your arms over your chest from the answer that you didn’t want to hear. Jesse was half demon, half human—which made him a prime target for both sides of the fight. You didn’t want to think about him being on his own, lost in a world without anyone to help or protect him, especially at such a young age. But you understood how he was feeling right now. He got out before his parents could pay the price for who he truly was. As you began slowly tracing your steps into a circle to examine his room, you noticed that he had an entire wall across from his bedroom dedicated to old postcards he collected over the years, probably help from his parents and relatives. What you noticed smack dab in the middle was a poster of a man surfing on a wave with the words Australia in the bottom right corner. You furrowed your brow slightly as you turned your head to see that the poster was directly across from his bed, making it the last thing he saw before bed and the first thing when he woke.

Maybe…just maybe he’d be all right.

\+ + +

A few hours after leaving Jesse’s house, you and the boys packed up your belongings before heading back on the road, wondering what kind of adventure you would find next, or if the search for the colt would continue on. The car ride had been mostly silent for the first half an hour, you found yourself comforted by the familiar leather seats and the rumble of the Impala’s engine, to the point where you drifted off into a peaceful slumber you hadn’t gotten in the past week. Both of the boys had been ignoring a possible conversation. They weren’t really sure small talk seemed appropriate at this point, and talking about the elephant in the room was a task neither one of them wanted to conquer first. Dean couldn’t help himself but strike up a conversation, something that was innocent enough to ask his little brother.

“You think Jesse’s gonna be okay?”

Sam inhaled a deep breath, the question was a loaded one for him. Both of the boys knew that Jesse was going to be on the road for the rest of his life without support. The younger Winchester understood the lifestyle a little too well, but he still kept an optimistic view for the eleven year old boy. “I hope so.” He replied to the older man.

“You know, we destroyed that kid’s life by telling him the truth.” Dean muttered with a heavy tone of guilt. The job of a hunter was always tough, but with each passing week, it seemed things were only getting harder. Dean looked out the driver’s side window for a split second window when he spotted flashing colors of red and blue pass by, all disappearing into the night traffic.

“We didn’t have a choice, Dean.” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Dean said, knowing his little brother was right. Silence had fallen between the brothers once more for only a few moments. Dean took his gaze off the road for a moment to the rear view mirror. From the headlights of a car passing them by, Dean caught a glimpse of your sleeping face, peaceful and content, something that you hadn’t been over the past few days. He swallowed and turned his attention back to the road. He couldn’t help himself think, about what he’d witnessed back in the future because of Zachariah, and what Cas had said back at the motel. It was all information that he knew, but it was truth that he tried passing off as a dirty lie "The more we keep falling down this apocalypse rabbit hole, the more crap we keep finding out about each other.“

Sam remained quiet after he heard what the man sitting next to him said, but he understood what he was talking about. He looked slightly over his shoulder to see that you were still sleeping, not having a single clue of the conversation that was going on. It was rumors at first, little jabs at you from demons and angels, they thought it was a tactic to get under your skin. "You think they were telling the truth?”

“You and I are the meat suit for Lucifer and Michael, Jesse’s the antichrist and Y/N’s…she’s just apart of this fight. So, yeah. I do.” Dean couldn’t get himself to say the words, it was almost like he was swearing. He found himself adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. The woman he loved was half a demon, so was Jesse. Him and his little brother were destined to a fight that might end the world. Nobody asked for this, and nobody was going to cave in. So he told himself. “You know, I’m starting to get why Ella ran all those years ago and didn’t raise Y/N like we did. Hell, why parents even lie to their kids about the dumbest things. She wanted Y/N to believe the worst things out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect her from the real evil. She wanted her to go to bed feeling safe. If that meant packing up everything they got and hitting the road, so be it. And look at what happened. Yeah, she was still got what was coming to her in the end. But the more I think about it and how Y/N turned out, not completely screwed up like we are…the more I wish Dad had lied to us.”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted just a few seconds later. “Me, too.”


	7. The Curious Case of Dean Winchester.

Growing old. It was the downside of life most of the population would have to face at point in their life, from their graying hair and wrinkles starting to develop on sagging skin, there was no way out of it. Unless you could devout thousands of dollars for risky surgeries and pumping yourself full of toxic drugs for a chance to look five years younger from your actual age. Or, you could take the much cheaper and riskier route, become a hunter. For those who devoted their lives to tracking down supernatural creatures, they wouldn’t get to see their youth slowly drain away due to the years of time catching up with them. The stress of constantly putting your life on the line and unhealthy diet of junk food and diner food prematurely ages a hunter. Mostly the cause of death was by whatever monster they were hunting, and for those lucky few who got out, it would only be a matter of time before the past would catch up to them, destroying the little fantasy of normality.

But there was always special circumstances that people had their lives cut short—sickness, accidents, murder—the list could go on and on. Sometimes there was a strange cause of death that made headlines and had medical professions scratching their heads in confusion at what could have gone wrong, their precious science couldn’t explain why a healthy young man in his late twenties dropped dead due to his heart giving out. Not quite uncommon, if he had a history of heart problems—and why he looked like he was in his late eighties when he passed.

You and the boys were down at the morgue where the body was kept, dressed in the usual formal gear, you placed up the fake badges to the woman that told her you were CDC. She stared at them for a few seconds, inspecting with a close eye, you noticed she seemed a bit skeptical when she looked up at Dean. “You expect me to believe you’re CDC?” She asked, using a tone of voice that you couldn’t tell if she was joking or being dead serious. Sam brushed off the suspicion as he asked what she meant by that as he tucked the badge away into the inside pocket of his jacket. “It’s just that you’re a day early. First time in history I haven’t sat on my ass waiting for you people.”

“New administration.” Dean said with a friendly smile. You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes when he milked the little lie, pointing a finger at the woman with his badge still wrapped around in his fingers. “A change you can believe in.”

“Right.” She responded with a fraction of a smile. The doctor lead you over to the freezers and pulled out the victim, you watched as the dead body of the man you had seen in the news article you read online looked nothing like the picture his wife provided. Your eyebrows shot straight up when you noticed an old man was the one lying on the metal slab with his chest stitched up from the unsuccessful autopsy and sagging skin with thin gray hair. It was exactly what you were expecting to see. “Meet Xavier. Date of birth—April 3, 1984. And I know. I ran the DNA twice. That’s definitely him.”

“Well, he wasn’t big on the sunscreen, huh?” Dean remarked.

“So,” Sam asked the doctor, “What’s your theory?”

“All I know is,” The woman glanced down at the chart she’d done on Xavier just a few days ago for personal reference. She was flabbergasted herself at what happened as you were. “decedent’s male, twenty-five years old, and he died old age.“

The doctor mentioned moving onto other bodies that needed her attention and to ask if you or the boys needed anything else before walking away. You examined the body for a few more seconds before looking over at the brothers, just from a simple nod, all of you realized this seemed to be your kind of case. Shoving Xavier back into the freezer, you closed the door before catching up with the boys, who were already halfway out the door and heading out into the hallway. The doctor mentioned moving onto other bodies that needed her attention and to ask if you or the boys needed anything else before walking away. You examined the body for a few more seconds before looking over at the brothers, just from a simple nod, all of you realized this seemed to be your kind of case. Shoving Xavier back into the freezer, you closed the door before catching up with the boys, who were already halfway out the door and heading out into the hallway.

You followed behind as you pulled out your phone, deciding to call Bobby, who was the one who suggested all of you check out the case as the hunt for the colt remained for the past few weeks.

"You were right about this one.” You said to Bobby after giving, or trying, a formal greeting after he answered the phone. He gave a quick hello before asking you how the trip to the morgue went. “It’s definitely a job.”

“Thought so.” He said. “Any other stiffs in town?”

“Just the one body.” You answered. Bobby asked if there was anything else in town that might count as strange. “Couple missing persons, but usual enough for a town this size.”

"Well, check ‘em out.” Bobby suggested to you.

“Do you think they’re connected?” You asked.

“Call it a hunch.” He said.

“You got it.” You said, reassuring the older hunter. You were about to hang up the phone, but you stopped yourself, knowing it’s been awhile since you’d personally spoken to Bobby. And you hadn’t seen him since he was discharged from the hospital all those months ago. You and the boys have been so focused on tracking down the Devil, you almost forgot about Bobby and his own new lifestyle he was still getting used to. “And, by the way, how are you doing? You know, just…in general?”

“Oh, you mean my legs.” Bobby responded a few moments later, and from the tone of his voice, he didn’t seem all that cheery. But he was sure in the spirits of using sarcasm against you. You furrowed your brow from the answer you gotten from the man, and the insult he’d never used against you before. “Well, I’m just weepin’ in my Haggen-Daz. Idjit.”

You moved the phone away from your ear when you heard the dial tone, making you realize Bobby hung up on you after giving a very rude goodbye. The boys looked over at you to see why you were staring at your still open phone with an angered expression. You glanced upwards to see their lingering gaze, you shut your phone and placed it back into pocket, giving them an update to how the older hunter was doing.

“Bobby’s do great. Sure is healthy enough to be dishing out the sarcasm.” You said as your lips slowly forced themselves into a smile. Before either one of them could make a comment, you quickly changed the subject to the matters of the case. “Let’s move things along, shall we?”

\+ + +

There was only about two people missing in town that were reported missing in the last week, the first on the list was a man named Cliff Whitlow. He’d been missing for exactly a week by his wife, and all though there seemed to have been no signs of foul play, you and the boys decided to give her a visit. Mrs. Whitlow was a sweet older woman who gladly ushered you inside after introducing yourselves as the FBI. You sat on the couch next to her as the boys were right across from you in the two loveseats. You inspected the framed photograph of Cliff who, unlike Xavier, was old by the vicious years of time. It was of him at a golf tournament a few months back with a bright smile, you took notice of the tattoo on his right forearm, Military based if you guessed. You leaned over and handed the frame over to Dean so he could take a look at it for himself.

“That’s the most recent.” Mrs. Whitlow said. You gave her a small smile and nodded when you noticed she was nervously wringing her hands together in her lap.

“How long has he been missing?” You asked her.

“Oh, I knew right away when he didn’t come home Tuesday night.” She said. 

“Is there someplace he likes to go after work, maybe?” Dean asked. “A favorite bar?”

Mrs. Whitlow shook her head, laughing quietly at the question. “No. Tuesdays, he always works a bit late, but he always comes straight home.”

You had a feeling her husband wasn’t working grueling hours at the office when he was just months away from retiring, at least, from the looks of his age. You looked over at the woman and gave her a smile when you asked, “May I use your powder room, ma'am?” Mrs. Whitlow gave you directions, leaving the boys to keep the questioning going, as you followed the way to the bathroom, like the woman thought. Instead, you made a sharp turn, heading for the hallway and peeking around until you found Cliff’s office from the looks of it. You examined the room to see if there was anything suspicious as you wandered over to his desk, skimming over the neatly placed belongings as you grabbed a pile of his mail, flipping through it to see that it was mostly bills or junk. You looked at the obvious places where somebody might hide a hex bag, but when you came up blank, you spotted Cliff’s suit jacket placed over his computer chair.

You wandered over to the other side of the desk and bent down, searching the outside pockets, only to feel lint and a few useless pennies, but when you checked the inside, you gotten something a bit suspicious. You took out what appeared to be a crumpled receipt, and from the charges, they weren’t for a pack of smokes and junk food he was secretly trying to hide from his wife. You scoffed at his excuse working late at the office, someone was trying to work through a midlife crisis, and the Mrs. wasn’t helping. A young woman was probably doing the job just right for that old geezer. For the right price, of course.

\+ + +

The Golden Palace was a place Dean would most definitely love, that is, if he were still single. Dean knew if that he dared to even

about what Cliff was doing to his poor wife, he wouldn’t live to see another day of the unfolding apocalypse. And he had his fun in these kind of sleazy motels. Drop a few hundred bucks and a woman of the buyer’s choice for the hour, and maybe even a little longer if they coughed up more dough. You and the boys worked your own kind of magic to get the room number from the woman who ran the joint. For about two hundred bucks, and reassurance you had no romantic relations with the man, she told you where you would find Cliff and the history of his business to her company. She said that Cliff hadn’t been around for a week, which was strange, since he was one of her regular customers that had been coming for the past few years, or since his wife had probably stopped giving what he wanted. Before you departed, she gave you a warning not to make a commotion in her establishment. She had paying customers who liked discreteness, the last thing she needed was one of you disrupting her business for unfaithful spouses and very lonely lovers.

“Well, at least he’s consistent.” Sam said, walking down the hallway before making a right turn, following behind you. You stopped for a second to look at the room numbers to see which one Cliff was in, you pointed a finger at the very end of the hall and proceeded walking forward to the door. “Same room every Tuesday, hourly rates.”

“Hope I got that kind of kick when I’m his age.” Dean said. You couldn’t help yourself but smile ever so slightly at the thought an old Dean, with wrinkles and graying hair. You wondered what he might look like if he ever gotten to his sixties.

“Yeah, like either of us will live that long.” Sam remarked. You knew that was a given fact for hunters not to live very long like most people, and the rules would be no exception for the three of you. You put your attention to the door that stood just a few feet away from you. A light pink heart with the numbers forty-four were printed in the middle. This was Cliff’s room, where he spent his Tuesdays. “So, what do you think’s in there?”

Your nose wrinkled at the thought of Cliff’s dead body in the room, reduced to nothing more than a decomposition, or worse, ashes and bones after the hands of time had worked rapidly on him like they had to Xavier. “A wrinkly, gooey corpse?” You thought out loud.

Either way, whatever was lying behind the closed door, you and the boys were going to discover what it was. Sam took the liberty of pulling out his lockpick and unzipped it, looking for the right tools as you and Dean stood guard, looking around at the narrow hallway, waiting for any possible bystanders that might come out of the rooms at the wrong time. Everything remained calm and nothing popped out as out of the ordinary, you continued watching the hall, until you heard a male yelling on the top of his lung, right behind the closed door you stood next to. From the sounds, you honestly thought somebody was in danger, so the boys did what was necessary. Sam used his shoulder to ram into the door, breaking it down with no effort as him and his brother barged inside to see what the commotion was all about. But….it wasn’t what you were expecting.

You managed to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind the Winchesters’ tall frames. A man lying in bed with a woman was caught off guard from seeing yourself and two men twice your size standing in front of you. But it seemed he wasn’t paying for just one friend, another one popped out from beneath the sheets to see what the commotion was all about, your eyebrows raised at what you accidentally stumbled upon. You gave the women an apologetic smile, hoping they wouldn’t get the idea the man inside the bed was your husband as they scurried off into the bathroom for safety.

“Sorry, uh…” Dean tried apologizing for the accidental mishap as he began to slowly back out of the room. “Got the wrong room.”

“Close the door!” The man shouted at the three of you in anger.

You were about to do just that, but your eyes drifted over to his right forearm that laid on top of the sheets, he had a tattoo of someone that also liked this room. You inspected it for just a second, only to realize, you understood why it looked so familiar. You heard Sam quietly scoff underneath his breath, seeming to make the same discovery as you did. “Hey. Nice tattoo.” Sam said. He began walking over to the dresser, deciding all of you were going to stay for a little while, after all. You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at the man lying in bed with a casual expression when you had a hunch of what was going on here. “Happen to know anybody named Cliff Whitlow?”

Your lips stretched into a smirk when you inspected his reaction at the accusation, his body tensed up as his jaw tightened. He replied a few moments later, denying any knowledge of this stranger. "Never heard of him.“

“Well, that’s weird.” Sam said. He pulled out his driver’s license and turned around to look at the man. "Because you’re carrying his wallet.”

Beside the matching tattoo and wallet, there was another piece of information that Mrs. Whitlow gave you before you left. You walked over to the bed and took it upon yourself to pull up the sheets, ignoring his attempts at trying to hide whatever it was. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, where you noticed was the darkish red spot, exactly where she told you.

"Huh.” You muttered underneath your breath, dropping the sheets back to the bed. You looked up at Cliff as gave him a smile, he quickly looked down at any spot on the bed, knowing he was caught. “Your wife told us about your birthmark there. And may I say, really sweet woman. Been worried sick about you.” You stressed the importance of his wife’s worries as you stepped back. Taking a moment to see what had become of him, you knew he looked nothing like his photograph Mrs. Whitlow showed you. The man lying in bed was young and fit, to be honest, he was quite handsome. “Well, you look great, Cliff. Did you get some work done for the Mrs?”

Cliff let out a heavy sigh, knowing there wasn’t much more of this lie he could keep pushing on forever. You could tell he was guilty at the mentions of his wife you kept pushing on him. He looked over at the woman that were hovering out from the bathroom, wondering what was going on. “Could you give us some privacy?”

In under just a few minutes Cliff was out of bed, dressed in some tacky looking silk robe as the women escorted themselves out the bathroom and to the open door. Only before they left, each of them put out their palms, demanding a full payment, despite only being here for half the session. Cliff forked out all of the cash from his wallet and gave it to them, quickly whispering goodbye as the women headed down the hall, and out of sight when he closed the door. Cliff quickly looked over at you and the boys, trying to put out another situation before it could get worse.

“Please don’t tell my wife. I’m begging you. As far as she knows, I’m dead.” He said, pleading with all of you in a rushed state. You narrowed your eyes on him, making the man assume you were falling for his little act. “For the love of God, let’s keep it that way.”

“How can you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?” Dean asked, managing to get a question in between the young man’s pleads to keep his infidelity hush.

“I can’t tell you.” Cliff said, giving you the wrong answer.

“Well,” You gave the man a compromise, “Either you tell us or we tell your heartbroken, worried wife—”

“Okay! Okay!” Cliff said. You could tell from playing hard ball he would tell you just about anything you wanted to know. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to answer the question. “It was a game.”

“Like…Xbox?”

“What’s Xbox? No. Poker—high stakes. Instead of cash, you play for years.” Cliff said, trying to explain how he got like this. You and the boys stared at him with a funny expression, wondering what he was trying to get at. "Look, I know it sounds crazy. Guy comes up to me at a bar, invites me to play. Gives me twenty-five of these weirdo poker chips, right? Chants some mumbo humbo over them, says now they’re twenty-five years. I’m laughing…but then I come out up. And look at me.”

“What was he chanting?” Sam asked, Cliff laughed at his question.

“How should I know? All I know is, my bad hip’s good, I threw away my glasses. One of those ladies was here for free!“ Cliff said with a growing smile, seeming a little bit too happy at his new found youth. "Man’s some kind of miracle worker.”

“What does this miracle worker look like?” You asked, wondering what you could be dealing with.

“Just a guy. Maybe thirty-five, brown hair. Irish accent. His name was Patrick.” Cliff explained to the three of you. Dean wondered where he could find this generous fellow, but it might be hard from the answer you gotten back. "He said he likes to keep moving. Never stays in bar long. And he finds you.” You nodded your head, deciding any sort of information on this miracle worker was better than nothing. The boys headed to the front door, making you follow behind and be the last one to lingering in the doorway. As you were about to step out into the hall, Cliff stopped you for a second from what he said. "Hey, have I seen you before?”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him a confused look from his question. “I don’t think so.”

"Maybe in my dreams, but from the looks of it, all of them are coming true. Especially now I get to see such a pretty face in real life.” Cliff said with the type of smile that made you realize what he was doing. You quietly chuckled to yourself at the old geezer’s attempts at flirting with you. He was probably one of those old guys would hit on just about anything in the bar after, trying to recapture what they had back in their younger years and would give anything to feel that way again. But it seemed he gotten exactly what he wished for. And he was testing his new found luck, wondering what he could get away with. You rolled your eyes as he gave you a sly wink, a smile crept across your lips. “Yeah, I still got it.”

"Stay classy, Cliff.” You said, knowing he was sleazy as they came. He’d been out of the playing field for well over a few decades, and it seemed he would hit on just about anything that moved. You shut the door and looked straight ahead with the intentions of seeing the boys farther down the hall than you, but there Dean stood, not even half a foot from where you were. From the look on his face, he wasn’t all that happy on the pass Cliff tried to pull over on you. You couldn’t help yourself but smile at how he was acting as you placed your hand on his chest, keeping him at bay. You shut the door and pushed him lightly, making him take a step back. “Relax. It was just a stupid pass.”

"Guy might not a grandpa, but I could take him.” It was the Dean that rarely came out to show, the jealous and overbearing man, showing his teeth for anyone that would wanna go against him. You couldn’t take him seriously when he got like this.

"Oh, I know.” You said, agreeing with him. You slowly ran a hand down his chest as your lips stretched farther into a smile, feeling his muscles underneath his shirt that he developed over the years from the years of hunting, despite his terrible eating habits. “Let’s go, Killer.”

Dean was tempted for a few more moments to see if he wanted to go against some guy that was just turned into his thirties again. Cliff was a scumbag who deserved someone to give his younger face a black eye. He was cheating on his wife and getting himself caught up in dark magic from the sounds of it. Dean stared at the door, but when he realized you were already down the hall with cell phone in hand to call Bobby, he decided his effort would be better placed somewhere else. You looked over your shoulder just in time to see that Dean caught up with you and Sam, exactly at the same time you heard Bobby pick up the phone again.

You told Bobby what you had learned from Cliff, from the high risk poker game that played for the years of someone and seeing the man looking at least a few decades younger. The boys followed behind as you wandered back outside and heading down the sidewalk. “It sounds crazy, right?” You asked the older hunter.

“No. There’s lore on it. Goes back centuries. Traveling card player pops into town. You beat him, you get your best years back. 'Course, most folks lose.” Bobby explained to you. You made a remark about how it made sense for why Xavier, a healthy young man, was lying in the morgue and Cliff was having the time of his life. “Supposedly, this player’s a hell of a card shark. Got a lot of years in the bank. You find the bar he’s working in yet?”

“There’s a lot of them in town.” You said. “One of us is gonna have to make a list before splitting up.”

“Well, why are you still talking to me?”

You tighten your grip on the phone when Bobby hung up on you again without saying goodbye, or, not dropping the sarcasm undertone. “He’s such a little…” While you were tempted into taking the low road and call him a name you would regret, you inhaled a deep breath to try and calm down. Again, you reminded yourself that Bobby was under a lot of stress, and old men had the tendency of being just a tad bit grumpy.

\+ + +

After spending the rest of the afternoon searching every single bar that you could find on the other side of town, you and Sam decided to call it quits and pick up dinner after Dean told you it was your job, and make sure to ask for extra bacon. Your legs hurt from walking what felt like ten miles, but in reality, you probably only walked about three and a half. The smell of grease and french fries tempted you into indulging just grabbing one from the pile that was meant for Dean. He wouldn’t miss a single one, and they’d be gone in the matter of minutes.

"I can’t believe we didn’t find anything. Three hours of walking around and all we got is squat.” You complained, only managing to get a few words out at a time while you chewed on the hot fry. “Not to mention how out of shape I feel. I mean, you need me to do research for five hours straight? No problem. Walk around town? It’s torture. I mean, I used to go running every morning before I started hunting. Now I’m lucky if I eat something that’s not gonna clog my arteries.”

Sam laughed at what you were saying, while you reached for another fry. “Yeah, this lifestyle isn’t all that great when it comes to a balance diet. But I try.” He said. You quietly scoffed, knowing the man was always making conscious decisions of what the right thing to eat was. “But, hey. If you were serious about getting back into running, and if you wanted a partner…I’d be down.”

“Really? Well, not you just gotta drag my ass out of bed and I think we’ve got ourselves a deal.” You said as you reached inside your pockets to fetch out the keys to the motel room. You shoved the key inside the lock and opened up the door, stepping inside first as Sam followed behind. You noticed Dean was back from the sight of his jacket and boots lying next to his bed. From the steam coming out from the cracked bathroom door, it seemed the man was just getting out of the shower. “Hey, Dean? You find anything?”

“Uh, you might say.”

The man who stepped out of the bathroom wasn’t who you were expecting, and without a second of hesitance, you pulled out the loaded gun from the back of your jeans and pointed it at the man. Sam followed suit, he’d put down the food, in exchange for the gun of his own as he directed to the old man before asking, “Who the hell are you?”

The old man standing in front of you was wearing Dean’s favorite navy blue robe, but he looked nothing like the older Winchester. He stared at the two of you with a confused expression, wondering why you were acting like he was an intruder in his own room. “Dude, relax. It’s me.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, wondering if what you were seeing was real. Dean was…he was older, much older. His hair was gray and his skin was wrinkled, and from the looks of it, he shrank a few inches, too. You lowered your gun and spoke him name in a quiet tone, almost in disbelief, but you were proven to know he was the real Winchester when he mumbled a hello. “Oh my God. What the hell happened to you?”

“I, you know…” Dean hesitantly explained as he walked across the room, heading for his dinner that was still on the table. You followed his every move, not being able to look away from seeing him this way, at least, in his sixties. “Found the game.”

“You f—I thought you were good at poker.” Sam said, still in shock himself at what he was seeing.

“I am. Shut up.” Dean grumbled, obviously having enough with the bewildered stares from you and his brother like he was a freakshow attraction. He grabbed the burger from the paper tray and unfolded it. “So, you were just gonna shoot some old guy? Is that it?”

“We didn’t know what you were. I mean,” You gestured to his new physique with your free arm, "H-have you seen you? You look like—"

“The old chick in ‘Titanic.’ I know.” Dean said. You found yourself accidentally smiling at the comparison he drew on his own, and from what you remembered from the movie, the both of them were quite similar looking. “Shut up. It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“I was gonna say 'Emperor Palpatine.’” Sam said, giving his own thoughts.

You looked away, trying your hardest not to laugh at that comparison, which would only piss Dean off even more. Before anyone could keep this conversation going, your attention was turned to the motel room door when the handle began shaking around before someone swung it right open. Out of anyone you expected to see on this hunt, Bobby was here, you watched with a rather surprised expression as he rolled himself into the room and slammed the door shut. From the last time you had saw him he was still getting used to life in the wheelchair, but now, he seemed to have gotten it down. It’s not like he had much of a choice.

“I see you met John McCain there.” Bobby said, nodding his head to the much older looking Dean, who still was munching away on his burger.

You nodded your head slowly, “Either one of you want to tell us what happened?”

“Bobby’s an idiot.” Dean said to you. “That’s what happened.”

“Hey,” Bobby defended himself. “Nobody asked you to play.”

 

Dean scoffed, “Right. I should have just let you die.”

“And for damn sure, nobody asked you to lose!” Bobby yelled at the man.

You found yourself smiling at the sight of a much older Dean arguing with Bobby, it brought up a comparison that made even Sam crack a smirk. “It’s like 'Grumpy Old Men.’”

“Shut up, Y/N!”

“Shut up, Y/N!”

You looked at the two men with a frown, not expecting for them to lash out at you at the same exact time. Dean gave you a look before putting his attention back on Bobby, still not done with this argument. “What were you thinking? He’s a witch. He’s been playing poker since guys wore tights.”

Bobby looked away from him and stared at a spot on the carpet, “You just don’t get it.”

“Yeah, I get it, Bobby. You saw a chance to turn the hands of the clock back and get out of that damn chair. Pretty tempting. I can imagine.” Dean said, shaking his head at the man’s foolish decisions. Bobby defended himself by saying that the man knew nothing what he was going through. And Dean agreed with him. “You got me. I never been paralyzed. But I’ll tell you something–I’ve been to Hell, and there’s an archangel there wanting me to drop the soap. I mean, look at me! My junk’s rustier than yours! You hear me bellyaching? Huh?”

Actually, you did hear something that sounded a bit off strange. Dean seemed to have found his decision for eating the cheeseburger a wrong choice of his own when he felt a burning sensation settle into his stomach. He fell down to the seat, straining to say that he was having a heart attack, but he was showing all the wrong symptoms. Bobby rolled his eyes from the man’s dramatic behavior. “No, you’re not. You have acid reflex. Guys your age can’t digest certain foods. You’re gonna need to put down that cheeseburger.” Bobby warned. You watched as Dean, unwillingly, put down his half eaten dinner, a little bit disappointed at the circumstances he was going to have to live with, for however long until you fixed this problem. "So, you want to keep emoting or you want to talk about solving this little issue of yours? It’s got to be the chips.”

“I slid 'em across, Patrick did his little witchy number, and you prettied up in a hurry.” Dean said, giving you and Sam a bit of a clue to what happened in the game.

“I mean, what are you all thinking?” Sam asked with curiosity. You took a seat next to Dean at the table as Sam stole the next one across from Bobby. “Some kind of magic chips or something?”

“Definitely.” Bobby said.

“You remember what he chanted?” Dean asked the older hunter.

“Yep,” Bobby nodded his head. “every word.”

“All right, let’s find out where he stashes his chips.” Sam said.

“And steal me fifty. Benjamin Button me back to burger shape.” Dean agreed with the plan, accidentally burping as the acid reflux began to slowly wear off. “What do you think?”

You glanced over to the much older version of the Winchester, you tried your hardest not to be a little bit weirded out. But it wasn’t helping when you realized he was sitting in the chair, in nothing more than just a robe. “I think you should put some clothes on.” You suggested to him. “Just so I don’t have an image that will be permanently burned in my brain of your wrinkly body.“

\+ + +

You sat on the edge of the motel bed with Sam sitting on the other one after he claimed it as his own, both of you waited with Bobby until Dean dressed himself again. He emerged a few minutes later in the clothes you gave him, almost making him feel like his usual self again. Sort of. You mindlessly looked in his direction, thinking you were going to see the same man you remembered before coming back to the motel, instead you were granted with an old man that still made you feel caught off guard—until you realized the imposter wearing Dean’s clothes was himself. You were brought out of your personal thoughts when someone knocked on the door. Dean decided to answer himself, wondering who it could be at this time of night. You leaned slightly forward in your seat when he opened the door, and was greeted by a young woman who must have been a housekeeper from her uniform, she patiently waited outside with a few fresh towels in her hands. When she was greeted by the sight of Dean, she gave him a friendly smile.

‘Ready for housekeeping, sir?” She asked him. Dean, no matter what, would always be the type of person who would mindlessly flirt with just about anyone he laid eyes on. At times it did personally bother you, but seeing him now, leaning against the doorframe as he made some swift comment to the woman who might have fallen for his charm before. But she couldn’t help herself but chuckle at seeing an old man trying to helplessly flirt with her, so she brushed it off as nothing she hadn’t seen before. “You’re just like my grandfather. He hits on anything that moves, too. You’re adorable.”

“And dangerous.” Dean added, as if he was trying to prove something. The housekeeper took a few steps inside the motel room to start walking to the bathroom, but when she heard Dean’s remark, she turned around to face him. She awed at him with another laugh before continuing on her job. You looked over at Dean, your lips stretching into a smirk at what had unraveled, Sam and Bobby were amused themselves at how the older Winchester was shot down so quickly. Dean, however, didn’t find any of this funny. “Can we just go?”

“Yeah. We should head out before you develop alzheimer’s.” You said, not resisting an attempt at throwing a jab at the man. Dean tilted his head to the side and gave you an annoyed look. You were about to let out a laugh for how you couldn’t take him seriously, thinking that he almost looked like a grandfather trying to discipline a younger child. But you found yourself on the other side of the joke. “Crap. I forgot my jacket in the Impala. It has my phone and keys to my motel room.”

Dean found himself smirking at how the tables turned in his favor, “Who’s forgetful now, Y/N?”

“Shut up.” You grumbled underneath your breath. “Help me to the car, Father of Time. And try not to break a hip on the way.”

The comeback wasn’t one that Dean was expecting, giving you the last laugh. Both of you headed for the Impala that was parked a few doors down from the motel room, leaving Sam and Bobby to load up in the van. You walked with Dean by your side, both of you were quiet, leaving the conversation to nothing more than the silence filled with the sounds of your shoes against the pavement and steady breathing. Dean stopped next to the driver’s side and fetched out his keys, mindlessly fetching them out before turning his head down, trying to figure out which one would open up the car door. He squinted slightly to take and make out his vision in the darkness, the fluorescent light coming from the motel lights weren’t helpful on his vision that seemed a bit spotty. It took a few seconds before he slipped the key into the driver’s side lock and opened up the door to pull up the knob that would unlock all the doors. Dean looked, expecting you to start moving for the backseat where you stood. Instead he felt his heart jump nearly out of his chest when he saw you standing right next to him.

“Give me a heart attack, why don’t you.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath. He inhaled a deep breath and looked away from you for a moment, trying to gather his nerves to pretend nothing happened before glancing back over at you. He was expecting for you to start moving, but instead, you just kept staring at him, but this time, your lips were stretching into the faintest smile, almost as if you were intrigued with something. Dean, however, started to wipe the sides of his mouth, thinking that he had a little bit of lettuce from the burger his ate stuck to his skin. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no. It’s just…” You tried explaining yourself best as you could, but when the words were about to leave your mouth, you quickly pulled back, afraid you might sound a bit funny. Dean raised a brow, making his forehead wrinkles become more prominent. You let out a quiet sigh as you smiled at him, the version you thought you probably would never see in your lifetime. “It’s just what Sam said earlier today, about us not living for very long. I mean, I know hunters don’t have very long lives. Yet, I can’t help but think what it might be like if we got to? Just live normal lives and grow old together. You know?” 

You were rambling on in thought, confessing something that you didn’t really think much about, it was just one of those things that you dwindled on when you were trying to fall asleep. You could see Dean’s facial expression change. No matter what, you could see the specs of guilt and sadness come into his face, sort of like how he was upset with himself for not giving you something that would never come true. "Not—Not that I don’t love hunting. Trust me, I wouldn’t change this for the world. Just…seeing you like this makes me a bit happy. It’s like part of my fantasy came true of seeing you as an old geezer.”

“Well, now that you put it that way,” Dean couldn’t help himself at trying to pull a move as if he was like his old self again. He leaned himself against the side of the Impala with his elbow resting against the top of the car, seeing him with a growing smirk made you cross your arms over your chest and raise a brow, wondering what he was going to say next. “You still think I’m handsome?”

“That’s a loaded question.” You said, chuckling at what he was asking you. You stared at him for a moment, allowing yourself to stare at his older self, wanting to see what was the real difference from the younger man you’d seen for practically every day of your life for the past four and a half years. He might have white hair and wrinkled skin, perhaps he was a little bit shorter than you remembered, but when you looked at him directly in the eyes, one thing remained the same. His green eyes that you always loved staring into. They were the same as you always remembered them being. Careful and cautious,. They were always filled with a bit of spark of happiness when you talked to him, but along with a sadness that he could never hide. No matter how old he would get, at least one thing remained the same. “Yeah, I—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you were cut off by the feeling of someone pressing their lips against yours, catching you by surprise. Your eyes went wide when you realized that Dean tried pulling this stunt, you quickly pulled away, taken back from what was happening. “Dean, what the hell?!” You hissed at him. You reached up a hand and shoved him lightly on the chest, angry at what he’d done. Dean gave you a confused look and raised his arms, wondering what he’d done wrong to piss you off so badly to react like this. You looked over at the other side of the parking lot to see there was a couple that looked to be in their early forties. They had been casually roaming the streets together, enjoying the quiet night. But it seemed they were finding someone that could be very well your grandfather trying to kiss you just a bit more interesting. The woman gave you a concerned look at your reaction. You felt your cheeks burning from embarrassment as you waved at them, trying to come up with an excuse before they got the wrong impression. “It’s okay. He’s my boyfriend.”

You tried to give an excuse that sounded reasonable in your head, but when the words came out from your mouth, you realized just how weird it sounded. The man raised his brow in surprise, as his wife was nothing but disturbed as she clutched her necklace and began shaking her head in disapproval. An old man that was at least thirty years older than you trying to make a pass, and it was only worse when they realized you were romantically involved with him. The woman looked over at her husband and shared a few words you couldn’t understand, but you had a sense from how she looked at Dean with an angry glare. You realized she was probably thinking he was an old geezer trying to feel young again by going after someone that could almost be his grandchild. You watched as she shook her head again, all before walking with her husband again, yanking him roughly on the arm.

Dean found himself letting out a laugh from what had just happened, thinking it was pretty funny at being caught by a couple who had gotten the wrong impression. You, however, you stood there with your crossed over your chest and became thankful for the darkness so nobody could see your cheeks that were burning red. Before either one of you could make a remark, you looked over to see Bobby’s van come pulling up to the both of you. Sam sat in the passenger’s side as Bobby leaned out the driver’s side window, wondering what was taking so long.

“You and Anna Nicole Smith ready yet?” Bobby asked with an impatient tone. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a chuckle from the reference the oldest hunter had slipped in. You patted Dean on the chest before opening up the backseat door, fetching out your jacket. Dean, however, didn’t look too happy from the comment. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You ain’t a spring chicken anymore, boy. And, to be frank, it’s kind of weird you trying to pull a move.”

“I pictured myself more as Leonardo Dicaprio.” Dean admitted, thinking he could pull the moves like the actor could while he dated through a string of models that were in their very early twenties while he was hitting his forties. You scoffed at the comparison and slammed the backseat door. “Or maybe Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder.”

“You wish.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Just get in the car, old man.”

\+ + +

All of you spent a little while trying to track this Patrick down in town, pinpointing where a witch spent his time was trickier than you thought, but it wasn’t impossible. You leaned forward your seat to get a better look as Sam tried his hardest to get a view next to you after Dean forced him to switch seats. Patrick had been roaming around town, probably enjoying the night light by himself, enjoying himself and the winning streak that he’s been on. You spotted him across the street, patiently waiting for the minimal traffic to slow down so he could safely cross. You thought nothing much of it when he put one foot in front of the other and began walking. He made it halfway across until he was at least a few feet from the pavement, but disaster struck faster than he could run away from. The man stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted a pair of headlights coming in his direction. You winced when you saw Patrick get hit by a convertable, making him go flying backwards from the impact before the driver’s slammed on his breaks a little too late. Patrick’s body rolled across the pavement before laying on his stomach, you noticed his neck was sticking out in a way that seemed like it was easily broken.

Your first thought was that Patrick was dead. But your second thought just a moment later that it was too easy, someone who had been living for hundreds of years wouldn’t die from a simple hit a after carelessly crossing the street. When the driver fumbled out of his car to inspect the man lying on the street, you watched as he headed over to a few construction workers, hoping either one of them could call for assistance. But it wouldn’t be needed. You raised your brows with astonishment as Patrick got up from the ground with not a single scratch on his face. He strolled over to the car, and without a hint of his previous injuries, slipped himself into the driver’s side of the car and drove off, leaving the flustered driver in the dust.

“I gotta say,” Dean laughed at what he watch unfold. “I kind of like the guy.”

Following Patrick was easier now that he’d stolen a ride. Bobby trailed behind the man, making sure to keep a steady length away from him so he wouldn’t get the impression of being followed. All of you drove around until Patrick pulled into a fancy looking hotel. He parked his new stolen ride against the sidewalk and headed inside to his room. About fifteen minutes later of waiting, Patrick emerged out again, now dressed in more of a casual look before heading out again. You looked around at the boys, deciding it would be best to get a few chips while the witch was out enjoying himself. Bobby parked the van just across from the hotel and insisted on coming with you for something that would only be a quick run. You weren’t exactly on board with the idea, thinking it would be better if he kept the engine running, but you bit your tongue, knowing you wouldn’t hold him back.

All of you headed inside the hotel after you told a few lies to figure out which room Patrick was staying in from the front desk. You met up with the boys when the snuck through another entrance, just in case if Patrick were to show up again. You looked over at Bobby when you noticed a frown stretching across his lips, his focused settled on the elevator doors from the sign that was an inconvenience to all of you. You let out a sigh yourself when you realized the elevator was out of service, knowing Patrick’s room was on the very top of the hotel, requesting only the best room available for his stay in town. 

“Hope you brought your running shoes, boys.” You said.

It was an adventure climbing up thirty flights of stairs. You had been complaining to Sam about running around town for a few hours, but this was going to be another challenge on its own. Sam, being the one with much longer legs and younger than you or Dean, found it most easy during the trip. You trailed behind, mumbling profanities and empty threats of what you were going to do to Patrick as you made your way up. Dean, however, was finding this in the most torturous. You made it up the staircase with your thighs burning and a thin layer of sweat covering your entire body, but you were alive. Sam was a few paces ahead of you, he got out his lock picking kit and headed for the door while trying to catch his breath. You looked over your shoulder, wondering where Dean was, and if he might have died on the way. But a few seconds later, he emerged from the doorway, heaving in deep breaths as he stumbled his way to you. Rolling your eyes, you headed inside the room when Sam got the lock undone.

You didn’t take much time to examine the furnishing of the room before you were off, trying to find these poker chips that were so special. Sam took one side of the motel as Dean settled himself by looking inside compartments of the living room, you headed for another part. You began searching any sort of drawer or cabinet that could hide a safe. Most hotels had them, and it might be a safe bet that Patrick was dumb enough to stash them in there. You were shuffling through their closet when Dean announced that he found it. You headed out a few moments later to see that it was in the amour that was inside the living room. Dean began working on it since it was a pretty cheap model with a twisting lock. While he worked on getting it unlocked, he began to squint slightly and lean back, trying his hardest to make out the numbers.

“It’s like ‘Mission: Pathetic.’” Sam muttered underneath his breath. He reached out an arm and pushed his brother out of the way, deciding to do the job himself. “Watch out.”

Dean gave his brother an annoyed look, but a few seconds later, the door swung open after Sam cracked the lock. “I could have done that.” Dean said with frustrated tone, you scoffed at hi.

Sam ignored the remark as he began fetching out a few handful of coins, grabbing what he could and shoved them inside his pocket. Before he could grab another handful, a female voice coming from across the room made you jump in surprise. “What are you doing?”

You looked over to see there was a woman standing across from the three of you with a cautious look on her face. From how she was dressed, you could tell she was a good friend of Patrick’s who was out enjoying a night in the town. But it seemed she must have forgotten something, only to intrude. Dean squinted his eyes, knowing his memory and eyesight wasn’t so bad that he would forget her face. “Aren’t you the chick from the bar?”

“I’m more than that.” She said, deciding to prove what kind of power she could use against you.

Before you realized what was happening, your hands rested against your stomach when it felt like someone was squeezing your insides. It lasted for what felt like forever, but Patrick thought you and the boys were harmless. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s all right, Lia. They’re harmless.” He reassured the woman. She seemed hesitant to let go, but after a moment, she unreleased her fist, making the pain disappear. You inhaled a deep breath and stood back up. Patrick looked away from Lia and to Dean. He raised his brow at his own handiwork that had been brewing over the past few hours. He crossed his arms over his chest and walked forward.

“You boys want chips? Take 'em. They’re just chips, einstein’s. It’s showmanship. This may come as a shock, but the magic does not lie in a pile of crappy plywood or in any phony abracadabra. It’s in the nine-hundred-year-old witch. You boys want years? Score 'em the old-fashioned way. Texas hold 'em.” Patrick said. He proposed a deal that was too good to be true. As he awaited your response, he pulled out a toothpick and stuck it between his teeth. Dean gladly took the offer from the witch, but Patrick decided to call out his bluff. He pulled out a card from the desk he always carried around and held it up for Dean to read. “What card am I holding up?” Dean thought it was an easy question to answer, but from how dimly lit the room was and the distance, he remained silent. “That’s what I thought. If your eyesight’s that bad, what about your memory? Just know, I’m not a murderer. You, on the other hand…”

You looked over at Patrick when you realized he was talking to you. You opened your mouth, about to take his proposition, but the boys immediately hissed your name, keeping you hushed. “What, Y/N not much of a player?” Patrick asked. You looked away, knowing it’d be impossible to give him a straight answer with the boys quick to dismiss what you would say. “Okay, well, happy trails, Dean. Enjoy the twilight of your life with your little brother and gal. However, you should have taken better care of that ticker.”

He headed over to the door and opened it up for the three of you, saying you were free to go, thinking Dean being near his death bed was punishment enough. You kept your lips shut, thinking that Patrick might be harmless as he looked. You followed behind Dean and stepped into the hall, making Sam the last one out. Before you left, Patrick turned his attention to the younger Winchester. "Oh, Sam, your brother’s situation—that’s punishment enough on poor Y/N, seeing Dean withering away to nothing. But I can’t let you leave without a small parting gift.”

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned the man.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Patrick said with a sly wink.

You decided that tonight was enough for all of you to get out of here with your head hung high. The trip back down the staircase wasn’t as treacherous as before and took a little less time. You were defeated at what you had found out, but it got your brain wondering of if you could take Patrick up on his offer after the boys realized you didn’t have many options left. You looked over to see that Sam was walking a bit funny, you watched as he lifted up his leg and pulled on his jeans. He tried to act as if everything was fine, but when he stepped out of the hotel entrance, he stopped in his tracks, leaning down as he tried to wait for the pain to subside. While Sam didn’t have a clue what was going on, Dean had a hunch of what it could be.

“Dude,” Dean looked over at his little brother with a growing smirk. “I believe that he-witch gave you the clap.”

It took you a moment to realize what Sam’s punishment was, and when it clicked, you found yourself letting out a chuckle. “Oh, Sammy…” You trailed off, you tried your hardest to give him a sympathetic look, but it didn’t last long when you started giggling. Sam gave you a glare from your reaction of getting a nasty case of gonorrhea, minus the memories of a fun night. He rolled his eyes in annoyance at your reaction that was similar to his brother’s and headed off to where Bobby had parked.

\+ + +

The next morning you and the boys were back at square one, still unsure of how you could take Patrick down for good and turn back Dean in the process. You were tired from the lack of sleep you gotten last night after trying to squeeze in a bit of research, hopeful to find some reverse spell. But when all you had gotten was a whole bunch of nothing, you pulled yourself away from the internet and dusty books for a quick shower. You looked to see that the time was just about to meet the boys again. Dean and Bobby tried to put their old brains together for a chance at finding some loophole while Sam went to the local clinic for his own personal reasons. You really didn’t want to think about it. You had a few personal thoughts of your own that had been floating around since you left Patrick’s hotel. With a body running on adrenaline and caffeine, you took the remaining sips of your stale coffee you gotten from the motel lobby and dumped it into the trash when you spotted the boys across the parking lot and headed forward to deliver the bad news.

“Well, research’s a bust. Couldn’t find anything decent.” You admitted to the three men, knowing their reactions were naturally going to be quiet sighs and frustrated eye rolls. You waited for a moment for the information to process, and before anyone could speak, you decided to be bold enough to give them your personal suggestion. “You know, I still think I should play.”

“No, no, no. You’re not good enough just yet.” Dean protested your idea, shutting it down before you could defend yourself. “I’m better. Bobby’s way better. We still lost.”

“So, what? I don’t get a say in this anymore?” You questioned him with a glare. “I’ve been hunting with you guys for almost five years. Not to mention my 4.0 GPA average that’s saved your asses a few times. I think I can learn a few moves to pull a quick one over some witch?”

"Sweetheart, when you get to be our age—”

“You’re thirty, Dean!” You yelled at him, cutting off the man mid-sentence at at his excuse. “Look, I’ve watched you hustle plenty of times at poker—plus I played a few games with you myself. Why can’t you just trust me and stop treating me like a little girl?”

“Knowing the game and playing a few rounds is not enough, Y/N.” Bobby said, defending the older Winchester’s point. “It’s not about playing the cards.”

You rolled your eyes and looked in his direction, “It’s about playing the other guy. I know that.”

“Well, hooray for you.” Bobby said with a sarcastic jab you didn’t find the least bit amusing from the expression you shot him. “All I’m saying is, I played the guy. I know his style. I can take him.”

“No, Bobby.” You protested his idea like he’d done to you. “You don’t have enough years in the bank.”

Bobby shrugged off your concern, “I got enough.”

“No,” Sam joined in arguing with the older man. “You’ll die if you lose, Bobby.”

“So what if I do, huh? What exactly am I living for, huh?! The damn apocalypse?! Watching men die bloody while I sit in this chair, can’t take a step to help 'em?” Bobby threw question after question at you and Sam. You slowly felt your anger drop from what you were hearing, never expecting to hear this from the man. Dean opened his mouth and tried to calm the man down, but it wasn’t helping. “No, no. It’s the facts. I’m old…and broke down…and I can’t…” Bobby found himself falling silent for a moment, trying to regain his composure before verbally admitting what had been burning in his head for all these months. “I ain’t a hunter no more. I’m useless. And if I wasn’t such a coward, I’d have stuck a gun in my mouth the day I got home from the hospital.”

Hearing someone like Bobby, the one you always went to when you were feeling overwhelmed with hunting or life’s struggles, break down and admit a few heavy thoughts made you look at him with a sympathetic stare that he tried his hardest to ignore. You knew there was no way out of this, and no matter how much the boys stomped their feet, you"were going to make this right. “Bobby, you are not playing again. I’m not letting you do that. You’re too important to me.” You told him. “There’s got to be another way out of this. There’s got to be. And much as you guys don’t like it, I’m going to find it.”

\+ + +

The day turned into the early evening when you broke down. After going through every spec of information there was out there, you had lead yourself to this. You thought you were being clever when you snuck off to the bar where Patrick was playing after remembering the address Dean had written down so he wouldn’t forget. You snatched the piece of paper from him, along with the keys to the Impala. If Patrick was still up for a game between the both of you, then maybe you could really save the day. But you found yourself hesitantly standing outside of the alleyway looking down at the scrap of paper, too caught up in your own thoughts to see someone come out from the corner of your eye and place a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes jumped away from the paper and immediately tried to grab the person’s wrist and fling them into the wall when they took you by surprise. But the person grabbed you by the arms, steadying you in place before you could attack. You furrowed your brow when you saw who it was. 

 

“Sam?” You asked him. You could hear the surprise in your voice when you realized it was him. “Were you following me?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself in trouble you couldn’t handle. Looks like your plan is gonna work, after all.” Sam said. You gave him a look, confused at what he was trying to get at. "We need something special from Patrick.”

Sam explained the encounter with Lia and the very generous spell she had given the boys, saying how it would reverse all the work Patrick had done in town, herself included. Bobby and Dean would work on gathering all the important ingredients, but getting a spec of his DNA was going to be a bit of a challenge. You mentioned to Sam about how Patrick had a thing for chewing on toothpicks, Dean had mentioned that before, and hoped you would be able to fetch a used one off him during the game. Naturally, Sam was here to make sure everything went smoothly on his brother’s behalf. You rolled your eyes at the man’s protectiveness over you, but you wouldn’t admit that you were a bit thankful for the backup. Hustling was in the Winchester’s blood. You hoped your approach was just as good. 

You and Sam headed inside where Patrick had set up his black market business, only to see there was a game going on. An older gentleman was playing a round, hesitantly observing his hand, making Patrick assume he didn’t have a good hand. Patrick decided to be fair and throw the man a bone.

“I sense you got me by the jewels on this one, Hesh. I fold.” Patrick said, taking out the toothpick he’d been chewing on between his teeth. The man was a bit surprised at his winning, but he took it, leaning forward in his seat and shuffling the chips his way. “What are you up—like thirteen years there, Hesh? What do you say we call it a day.”

Mr. Hesh chuckled and gave the man a grateful smile. “Thanks, Patrick.”

“Hesh here is gonna live to see his granddaughter’s bat mitzvah. Isn’t that right, Hesh?” Patrick said. But he wasn’t talking to his player, he was talking to you and Sam. Mr. Hesh looked over his shoulder to see that you were patiently waiting a round with the witch, Sam quietly stood over you like a shadow. Mr. Hesh, yet again, thanked the man for the miracle he thought would never come. “Shalom, my friend. Shalom.”

You watched as Mr. Hesh got up from his seat, thanking the man yet again before waving, a smile wouldn’t leave his face as he disappeared from your sight a few seconds later. You looked over at Patrick, who casually began shuffling the cards, keeping himself busy. “That was nice of you.” You said, deciding to start a bit of small talk between you and him.

“I’m a nice guy.” Patrick said with a shrug. “What can I do you for, love?”

You walked over to the empty chair that was at the table and sat right across from him. Looking at him straight in the eye, you could see Patrick’s lips curl into a smirk at what you said. “Deal.”

\+ + +

If there was one piece of advice you could use for a game against a nine hundred-year-old witch, you took to heart what Bobby had said earlier; the game wasn’t about playing the cards, it was all in the technique of fooling your opponent. You let out a quiet breath as you examined your cards and the row of the other ones that were spread neatly out on the green tabletop. Patrick watched you with a casual expression, but considering the fact that he had a few centuries to perfect his poker face, it was hard to tell if he was smirking at you because he was holding a winning hand, or if he was just easily amused at your attempts of trying to handle the game’s stress. He leaned comfortably in his seat and chewed on the end of the toothpick, all while quietly eyed your stack of chips that were dwindling down, and far inferior to the pile of his own. Sam was an expert at keeping a straight face himself. He stood behind you and casually took his gaze away from your hand and to the toothpick that was hanging between the crook of Patrick’s lips.

“I like you, Y/N. I do. You’re smart and your heart’s clearly in the right place.” Patrick struck up a conversation between the both of you, making you glance away from your cards. He took the toothpick out from his mouth and kept it in his hand, you watched as it moved around in the air as he talked. But he traded the toothpick for his glass of whiskey when he dropped it to the table, switching it the objects in his grip so he could take a drink. “I can tell a lot by looking at someone like you.”

Sam presumed he found a flaw in this game from what Patrick said. “You mean you’re psychic.”

“No. That’d be cheating.” Patrick said, shaking his head from the accusation as he leaned forward slightly in his seat. “I’m talking about good old-fashion institution.”

“Right.” You said, taking his words with a grain of salt. “Let’s just play.”

“We are playing, love.” Patrick said, getting the words out after he took another sip of his whiskey and wincing slightly at the familiar burn going down his throat. You found yourself subconsciously watching the man as he placed his cup to the table, right next to the toothpick. You looked over at him again when you heard Patrick ask you question, and it seemed to have been enough to get under your skin. Your lips automatically stretched into a frown when you heard it, giving the exact reaction Patrick was hoping for. “Does your boyfriend know you’re here?”

“Bet five.” You answered him by tossing a few more chips into the pile. You looked at Patrick straight in the eye, giving him a cold glare to show him you weren’t playing around. Patrick raised a brow at you and smirked at you, seeming almost amused at your attempts of trying to keep yourself from going under. “I don’t know how you treat your girl considering you’re older than dirt. But I don’t need permission from Dean to play a silly game of poker. I do what I want.”

“That so? Is that why he’s got Sasquatch over here playing your bodyguard, because he can’t? Dean’s too old to protect his gal, so he’s got his little brother on duty. And I raise.” Patrick leaned forward and tossed a stack of chips into the pile, making the size and number of years grow. You watched as he grabbed his drink from the table again and took a sip, all while he continued on speaking, making presumptions just from actions and facial expressions. “You know, in my line of work, you start to read people just from the sight of them and their actions. Dean seems like the type of guy who gets into these kind of sticky situations, Sam’s probably got in a few himself. So, here you are, right? Trying to clean up their mess, and they still want to sit you at the kiddie table. You’re not a little girl anymore, you want to play with the big boys.”

"Then again, maybe you are.” Patrick leaned his free arm against the table and kept his fingers occupied by grabbing two chips from the pile and began toying with them. “You’re in over your head here, Y/N. I mean you can keep making these moves—you know, playing it cautious, playing the percentages. But I’m still gonna kick your ass into the nursing home.”

"I’ll take my chances. Death doesn’t really stick to me. I’ve died…” You propped your elbow on the table and began thinking back to past hunts. You counted on your fingers to give him an example. “Three times? You could count a hundred or so from a trickster’s crude sense of humor. But all of those were bloody and vicious. Dying in my sleep seems like a good way to go. And I’ve always wanted to grow old with Dean.” You said, deflecting the words that Patrick was trying to use against you. You’ve heard the threats all before from the monsters you hunted. They thought using the idea of losing Dean would make you crack under pressure. But you were far too selfish to let that reality ever come true again. “And tell me, does this armchair-psychology routine usually work for you on the schmucks you play?”

Patrick let out a laugh from what you said. He reached out his hand and grabbed his toothpick from the table again, placing it between his lips. “You tell me, love. You’re the one who’s losing.”

Out of a subconscious effect, your fingers clutched to what chips you had left. Only a few stacks that were probably no more than ten years, you told him to continue on playing. You watched as Patrick shuffled up the cards, making sure that everything was fair. You silently told him you would bury yourself into an early grave by your sheer ability of not letting go to someone you loved. Patrick’s attention drifted from the game for a moment when he saw Lia, his better half of how many years, arrive into the room to see the progress of how things were going. You looked away from the couple when they shared an intimate kiss, the only thing you cared about was his toothpick, which remained at his nearly empty glass of whiskey. Patrick decided that it was time for a little break, you couldn’t have agreed more.

You and Sam didn’t even waste a second when Patrick disappeared out of the room, giving you the only opportunity to make this spell work properly. You snatched the toothpick with a fragile grip as you followed behind Sam. He lead the both of you to a familiar set of metal doors. He pushed both of them wide open and began searching down each way of the alleyway to find his brother, you were hot on the younger man’s heels. And like you thought, Dean was waiting for the both of you with Bobby still in the van.

“How it’s going in there?” Dean hesitantly asked.

“How do you think it’s going?” Sam scoffed at the question. You gave him a look from the natural reaction. You knew he wasn’t partial to the idea just like Bobby and Dean. But it was the only one you had right now. “What about you? You have everything you need?”

“We still need a little he-witch DNA.” Dean said, but you were already on it.

“He was chewing on it.” You showed the used toothpick to Dean. You might have been honest to Patrick about not being afraid to die. But there was always that one chance, being too arrogant in a situation, and you would permanently be nothing more than ash as the boys burned your dead body. At this point in time, you needed to be healthy and alive to finish the bigger problem at hand than some witch who was good at playing cards. “Hurry up, Dean. Please.”

“All right. Just keep him busy.” Dean said. You nodded your head and started to make your way back to the doors, until you heard the older Winchester give you a piece of advice that might work in your favor when it didn’t for him. “And Y/N, don’t lose.”

You nervously swallowed, knowing well enough there was a lot riding in your shoulders, not just for you—him too. Nodding your head, you headed back inside with Sam, all of you parting your separate ways. You dropped yourself back in your seat as Sam took his usual position next to you, both of you went on as if you hadn’t move when Patrick came back into the room with Lia. He took his seat and adjusted himself so he was comfortable. While you waited for the game to resume, it remained paused for a few more moments, Patrick felt the need to divert the focus to something a bit more important.

“Question—is this what you meant to give your boyfriend?” Patrick asked you simple question. You inhaled a quiet breath when you noticed what he pulled out from the inside of his jacket pocket was a toothpick, the exact one you needed for the spell to work. “The one you gave him never passed my lips. Won’t do a scrap of good.” Patrick carelessly threw the toothpick across the table, watching as it landed just centimeters from your hand. Your fingers curled themselves into a fist, keeping the temptation of grabbing the object and running for the hills. “I don’t like cheating, Y/N. And thanks to you, Dean’s not the only one who’s gonna die tonight.”

You didn’t have to wait long to understand what he meant by that. Patrick leaned forward in his seat, resting one palm against the table as his other arm reached out to the direction of Sam. Your head quickly turned to the direction of the younger Winchester when you heard him start breathing a bit funny. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw Sam clutch his throat, feeling as if someone was choking him. “Stop it!” You were about to lunge forward and attack him, but Patrick was quick to defend himself. Without breaking a sweat, he pinned you to your seat, making you watch as Sam was slowly starting to become blue in the face as he struggled to take a breath of air. “Leave him alone, or I swear to God!”

“Patrick, stop it! You’re hurting him!” In a shocking move, Lia stepped in, trying her hardest to change the man’s mind before Sam could get hurt. But Patrick wouldn’t listen, he snapped at her, saying that the both of you were trying to kill them. She grabbed him by the wrist and roughly tugged at his arm, admitting a shocking truth to him. “

did it! I gave him the spell!”

Patrick let go of his hold on Sam, letting the younger man inhale a much needed breath after he heard what she said. You looked over at Sam, making sure that he was all right, a bit happier to see some color come back to his face. Patrick stood up and looked over at Lia, from the look on his face, he wasn’t angered at what she had admitted, but more saddened at what she had done behind his back. “Why…” He took a step forward to the woman and cupped her face with his hands. “Why would you do that?”

“You know why.” Lia whispered to him. Your eyes wandered down to her necklace she had been wearing she had been wearing yesterday. The way she was playing with it, you could sense that it held a great value to her. “You know.”

You watched as Patrick processed the answer, and from the unsettling look that crossed his face, he wasn’t happy. He put his focus back over to you. Patrick never broke eye contact with you as he settled himself back into his chair once more. Before you left to make the exchange with Dean, Patrick was reserved and calm. But now, his once slicked back hair was out of place and his perfectly pressed suit was starting to wrinkle. He was slowly unraveling right in front of your eyes. You could tell he was starting to show his true colors.

“Keep…playing.”

The game continued on, like Patrick commanded it to. He dealt out four more cards on the table, you tossed in chips, making the middle in the middle grow. You leaned forward and placed your elbow on the table, you lifted your hand to your mouth and lightly bit the skin on your knuckle. You weren’t sure what you should do, Sam watched you with a nervous eye, waiting for what move you were going to pull. Looking down at your cards, you placed them face down, not showing what kind of hand you had. Deciding to be a bold player, you stacked up your remaining chips and pushed them all in, leaving you with barely ten years left if you lost this hand.

“Well, look at you—the percentage player betting the farm. Awful transparent of you, Y/N. I mean, if I had a monster hand like you have, I’d trap you. But you get so excited, you bet yourself right out of a big pot. I fold. Set of ladies, I’m guessing?” Patrick set his cards off to the side, waiting to see the winning hand you were holding. You didn’t reveal them just yet, you reached out and grabbed your rightful winnings, giving you a decent chance at winning from the pile you were now holding. Looking up at Sam for a second, you could see the anticipating at the hand you held, as Lia was curious herself. You glanced over at Patrick and put your cards next to the line of the other ones. You flipped them over—to reveal a three of clubs and a five of diamonds. A lousy hand that would have made you lose. “Nice bluff. If we had time, I could make a real player out of you.” 

“Oh, I’ve got nothing but time.” You said.

“Maybe. But I can’t say the same for Dean. Your boyfriend’s gonna be dead soon. And when I say ‘soon’…I mean minutes.“ Patrick said, giving you a piece of information that he knew would make you crack under pressure. You could pretend to be confident all you want, but when he cranked up the pressure, he could see you squirm at the reality of losing him. It was easy enough when you pushed back your chair and tempted to make a run for it, but Patrick didn’t like that. He forced you back into your seat and Sam’s feet glued to the floor. "The game’s not over till I say it is. Blinds.”

You slapped down a chip, Patrick bet two. The game took another round, you watched as he dealt out the cards with your fingers roughly tapping against the tabletop, making a quiet thud. Out of habit, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, anticipating his next move.

“You had me fooled for a while, Y/N. Had a pretty good poker face going on, even I was impressed with your witty comebacks. But still, you can’t hide the attachment you have for Dean, what you’re willing to do for him when it matters.” You looked down at your hand, and without missing a beat, you slid in two more chips. “When it’s about your boyfriend or Sammy, you get so emotional, your brain just flies right out of the window. Good to know.”

“Go to hell.” You hissed at him. Patrick smirked at your insult that was nothing more than a tickle to his ego. You inhaled a deep breath as you thought for a second about a rational decision that could help you win. But you realized again that Dean had barely minutes left, and if you didn’t do something, he was going to die. Just the thought of him dying because of you made a panicked look settle into your facial expression without thought. So you made a move. You gathered all your chips and pushed them forward. “I’m all-in.” 

Sam eyes widened at what you were doing, “What the hell, Y/N? You can’t do this.”

“Listen to your friend, Y/N.” Patrick warned you. “Don’t do this.”

“I can’t leave until it’s over? Fine, it’s over.” You told him with a hardening tone as you narrowed your eyes on the man. “Now, where is Dean?”

“Look, there’s poker and then there’s suicide.” Patrick said, trying to be the voice of reason.

You leaned forward in your seat and stared at Patrick dead in the eye, wanting him to see the frustration creeping into your face and the desperation you couldn’t fight off anymore knowing that Dean’s life hanged in the balance. “Did I stutter? Play the damn hand.”

Unwillingly, Patrick agreed to your ludicrous plan. You took in a deep breath to try and calm yourself as you leaned back in your seat. You watched as Patrick placed out three more cards each of you needed to match or play higher to win. For what felt like forever, you waited as Patrick reached to grab his two cards, and faced them down so you could see the hand he had. Without a thought, you could feel your eyes glaze over, knowing that he was holding a pair of aces.

“I’m sorry, love.” Patrick said with a grim expression. “Aces full.”

Sam couldn’t hide the honest shock and sadness at how the game turned out. You swallowed and looked over at him with an apologetic look at what you’d done. Lia stood next to him, you could see that she was silently trying to wipe away a few tears that fell. She’d done so much for all of you, only it ended in misery. “You’re crying. For a witch, you’re so nice, it’s actually kind of creepy. It’s okay. It was a great hand.” You said to Patrick, slowly looking over at him, slowly coming to terms with what’s happened. You let him reach forward for his winning pille. “Just not good as…” That’s when you sobered up, hitting him where it hurt the most. You leaned forward and slapped down your two cards next to their twins. “Four four’s.”

Patrick found himself lost for words at the trick you pulled on him, the only response you gotten at first was a scoff, knowing you’d beaten him at his own game. You could feel a smile slowly starting to crawl at the end of your lips as Patrick leaned back in his seat. “Well played. You know, that whole…going-out-of-your-head-bit–very method.” Patrick said, seeming rather surprised at what you could have done, fooling everyone in the room. You shrugged it off, knowing you were always one step ahead. Like Bobby said, it was all about tricking the other player. “Well, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“You could say I’m used to playing a certain role of what people want me to be.” You said. You found yourself looking at Sam from the corner of your eye, knowing how the statement was much broader than Patrick would ever need to know. For now, you settled on the conversation to the reason why you played this game in the first place. “Cash these in for Dean, please.”

Patrick raised his glass at you, “With pleasure.”

\+ + +

You made it back to the motel before Bobby or Dean, which left your mind a bit worried that you might have been too little too late to save the day. Neither one of them were answering the damn phone, leaving you nervous as you paced your motel room, wondering when one of them would just show up. After what felt like a century, you heard someone knock on your door, making you leap out from your personal thoughts. You headed to the door, not giving the person on the other side a moment to anticipate you answering their arrival. Swinging open the door, you were expecting to see Dean, his young self with a wide smile, but instead, you saw Bobby. and Sam. From the looks on their faces, you could feel your hopefulness pop like a balloon, slowly it began to deflate. You clutched the door handle with an iron grip as you stepped outside, knowing well enough they were going to give you the bad news.

Dean didn’t make it, you expected Bobby to be the one to break the news as he looked over at Sam. You waited for one of them to break the silence, the anticipating killing you. But you found your concentration taken away from the men when you heard a faint a whistle coming from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed that someone was standing right behind you, making you come face to face with a familiar someone that you hadn’t seen in this stage in what felt like fifty years. You could see his lips stretched into a toothy grin, the familiar lines that were natural for someone his age. It was Dean, back to his normal self. His smile only grew when you wasted not a single second by wrapping your arms around his neck and practically throwing your body against his, making it easier when you pressed your lips against his, sharing a simple kiss now that he was back to his normal self.

“So, Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam was the one who broke the moment away from you and Dean. You rested yourself against Dean’s chest as he wrapped his arm around your waist, you listened to what Sam’s question was. “How’d you get so good at poker?”

You found yourself biting your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to laugh at the answer you were going to give him. You looked at Dean for a second, both of you shared a couple smiles, all before you settled your gaze on Sam. “Dean taught me while we played a few rounds of strip poker when you were off 'retired’ from hunting.” You answered for him, giving him a playful wink for an added effect. “You learn real quick of how to win if you want to–”

“Dude, okay!” Sam cut you off, obviously not wanting a visual.

“It’s a perfectly natural thing between two people, Sammy. Don’t need to get so weirded out by it.” Dean teased his brother, lightly smacking the taller man in the chest with his fist. “Of course, you might have forgotten the feel of a woman’s touch. How long has it been since you cut loose?”

All though Sam gave his brother a dirty look, it was quickly settled with another. You could feel from the look on Sam’s face that it had been too long since all of you had just cut loose and had a bit of fun. But it’d been a rough couple of days. The thought of crawling into bed and sleeping for the rest of the night seemed like the best idea that crossed your mind. Looking down at your watch, you noticed that it was just a little after eight, and if the early bedtime wasn’t enough, your aching muscles made you feel like you were at least eighty years old. But you knew one thing, the aches in your bones and joints were a result of a job well done.

\+ + +

“No tricks—you actually beat the guy?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You dropped your hands to your duffel bag and looked over at Bobby when you heard him bring up the same question. You were starting to regret keeping your door open while you packed the remaining of your belongings after this hunt was over, allowing Sam and Bobby to come strolling in. The conversation started off civil, but soon enough, it went strolling back to the events of last night, and how you managed to save the day after pulling quite a ballsy move. “Yes, I did. I’m just that great.”

“Word of advice when you’re hustling someone, make sure to let me know of your ingenious plan next time.” Sam said. You looked over at him with a smirk stretching across your lips, knowing you had left him out of your idea that was a spur of the moment thought. The man was thrown through a panic when he thought you were honestly going to lose. You nodded your head, agreeing to his plan, and mumbling about how he should have known you were going to pull that move. It would be something that he would’ve done if he was in your position. As you began putting your folded shirt back into your bag, Sam looked down at his watch to see what time it was. When he realized how late it was becoming, you looked up to see him heading for the door. “Hey. I’ll see y'all later.”

“Where are you going?” You asked him.

“Uh…mm, nowhere.” Sam answered. Your eyes slowly wandered down his body, knowing well enough of his situation and how he still needed to take care of it, you raised your brow when you made eye contact with him. The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, knowing he had to confess the truth in a very subtle way without saying it in front of Bobby. “A booster shot. And don’t say it, Y/N.”

You put your hands up in a defeating position, knowing his little secret would be safe with you, but it couldn’t stop the little giggle that came out from your mouth. He gotten the consequences of a bad hookup, only without the good memories. You began zipping up your bag, keeping yourself occupied with the small task, leaving Bobby to let his gaze awkwardly roam around the room. He’d been short with you this entire hunt, from the conversations you had with him the phone, to the one yesterday after he refused to let you participate in the game. Both of you hadn’t bumped heads much over the years, if anything, he’s been the only reoccurring person in your life where you told him more information about yourself than even the boys. But over the past few months since the apocalypse happened, tension was running high between everyone, including the older hunter himself. And hearing his confession was just the tip of the iceberg.

After hearing what Bobby said, about how he was tempted to end his own life, it showed you that even he had problems you’d been ignoring. In a selfish way, you always brushed off Bobby’s new lifestyle as something he could handle, something he wouldn’t have to talk about. Yet he was still human, and just like you, he needed someone to tell him that he was still valuable, and his new condition wasn’t going to hold him back. You looked over at him, and when you made eye contact, you gave him a small smile.

“Well,” Bobby let out a sigh as he began rolling himself to the front door, suddenly as if he could tell just from the look on your face, this conversation that hadn’t even started was turning into a direction he wasn’t exactly comfortable with. “I guess we can get the van loaded.”

“Hold on a second, hotwheels.” You pushed yourself off the bed and took a few steps forward to the man until you were standing in front of him.Bobby gave you a look, you knew he wasn’t the least bit happy at the nickname you gave him, but it was spur of the moment slip. You let out a sigh, trying your hardest to figure out the exact approach at discussing a topic with him without sounding too pushy. “Look. I know over the past few months, the boys and I have been ignoring your…situation. We’ve been pretty selfish. I mean, all of the things you have to deal with, it’s gotta be tough. Plus you’re always alone, and we don’t always call you like we should just to check up on how you are. It’s always about the apocalypse. And you’re always cleaning up our messes.”

“Don’t you go all pity patrol on me.” Bobby grumbled, like how an old man would.

“I’m not. I’m not, trust me.” You said, shaking your head slightly. “I’m just saying, if the boys or I were in your shoes—”

“Dean probably wouldn’t stop complaining. He couldn’t handle being eighty without whining about it every damn second.” Bobby said. You found yourself slightly chuckling at how Dean spent the remaining hours of his older psychic before turning back to his old self again. All though you were smiling, you knew there was something you had to get off your chest.

“You’re not useless, Bobby.” You said it, you jumped into what you’ve been wanting to say since yesterday. Bobby listened to what you said, and just like a typical man, he thought the conversation would have been done just like that. But you were only getting started. You stopped him by reaching out your foot and pressing it against the wheel and shook your head at him. You bought yourself a few seconds as you pulled up a chair from the table so you were sitting right across from him. Swallowing, you looked at him straight in the eye, and you told him how much he really meant to you. “You don’t stop being a soldier because you got wounded in battle. Okay? No matter what shape you’re in, bottom line is, you’re family. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but me and the boys, we don’t have much left. I can’t do this without you. I can’t.”

You looked at him with a softening expression, knowing that what you had said was the honest to God truth. He was the only real parental figure in your life that you could constantly go back to. He was so much more than a hunter. He was your family. “So don’t you dare think about checking out. I don’t want to hear that again. Ever.” You told him with a serious tone. “Because you’re the only father we have left. And I don’t know about the boys…but I can’t lose another one. Not when you’re the only one I’ve really had in my life that’s been there for me when it counts.”

Bobby fell silent, a bit overwhelmed by what you had told him, but from the look on his face, you had hit him exactly where you wanted it to count. You found yourself sniffling a few times, trying your hardest not to shed any tears. This wasn’t about you, but you understood what it felt like of being at the end of your rope, wanting life to be done. When you were dealing with the demon deal that sent you and Dean to hell, you wrapped your mind around so tightly around the idea of dying you would have done anything to end it. But nothing good came of it. Nothing good came of thinking so lowly of yourself, because much as people tend to forget, everyone serves a purpose for this world—no matter how small it is. Sometimes you just have to keep fighting, no matter how long it takes until you find that scrap of happiness that makes life a little less bitter. Not to mention, there would be people in this world who would miss you.

"Thanks.” Bobby mumbled after a few seconds of silence. You nodded your head, knowing it was the least that you could have done for him. The sweet moment between the both of you didn’t last very much longer, because just after your heartfelt confession, he changed the subject by giving a witty question. “Now, we done feeling our feelings? ‘Cause I’d like to get out of this room before I start growing lady parts.”

“Come on, you don’t want to deal with PMS? We both could have ourselves a nice cry and eat our feelings.” You shot back at him with a little bit of sarcasm of your own. “Yeah, we’re done old man.”

You stood up from your seat and faced the door, knowing there was a few things Bobby needed a bit of help before he was heading back home to South Dakota. Both of you shared another pause of silence. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and sharing the last moment between the both of you, you gave him another smile. “What’s going on here?” You turned your head to the doorway when you heard a voice speak up, but it was muffled, making you look at the person who just entered with a confused expression. You realized it was Dean who had just arrived back from wherever he’d been this early afternoon, and from the burger in his hand, he was munching on a much needed reward. He raised his brow as he quietly chewed on the burger before swallowing.

“Nothing.” You answered. “Bobby and I were just getting the stuff ready.”

“Well, in that case,” Dean decided to make himself useful by heading over to your motel bed and grabbing a few of the bags in one hand, all while still holding onto his burger. “Let’s go, ironsides.”

"Oh, so that one sticks.” Bobby said, finding the name calling over the past twelve hours from Dean had been the least bit amusing. The older Winchester stopped in the doorway for a second to look at the man with a growing smirk, knowing it probably wouldn’t be the last time you heard it.

All of you headed outside and to Bobby’s van, where you helped him get packed up for the drive back home. You said your final goodbyes, telling the man you’d stay out of trouble, if that were even possible anymore these days. It followed you like a dark cloud no matter where you went. You stepped back and watched with Dean as Bobby pulled out of the motel parking lot and disappeared from sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, you looked up at the man, not to see the eighty year old version of himself that you would never see again, but the much younger face that you adored. You stared at him for a moment, finding yourself letting a smile spread across your lips, Dean looked at you with a funny face, wondering why you weren’t saying anything to him. He subconsciously reached to touch the corner of his mouth, wondering if there was something stuck to his lips. You found yourself smiling even wider when you realized he’d done the same thing the night before.

Deciding to remain silent, you you reached up to his level best as you could and pressed your lips against his, savoring the strange tastes of bacon and mint. You took him by surprise, but slowly, he found himself enjoying the small moment of affection in the motel parking lot. As you reached up to wrap your hands around his neck, you felt his arm rest against your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Both of you spent a few moments enjoying a small token of romance that you didn’t always have time for. You squeezed in kisses and different versions of “I love you’s” when you weren’t hunting. It’d always been strictly professionalism when you were working the job. But after these past few hunts, you just wanted to pull him close, and forget about the world for a little while. It was easy when you were being held by the man you loved more than just about anything.

You were about to pull away from him at your own free will, but you’d gotten the feeling that you and Dean weren’t alone anymore. You opened your eyes slightly to see that Dean was staring at something from behind you, but considering he was staring at it with an awkward smile, you looked over your shoulder to see what was going on. And you’d be damned at who you saw. A split second later, you gave the two not-so strangers a small smile.

They were the couple you’d seen from the previous night, when Dean was caught red handed trying to steal a kiss from you. He thought the both of you were alone, and not around the wrong audience while not looking like his normal self. You’d gotten a strange reaction from the woman when she happened to have been walking down the street. She stopped dead in her tracks to take a few moments out of her night to stare at Dean with the coldest expression her face could make, almost as if she was expecting him to just drop dead. You could tell from her face that she thought it was disturbing to see a man that looked about eighty trying to make a move on someone that was half his age, and then some. And it only got worse when you told her he was your boyfriend, as if that was okay. Most people would judge from afar, pass off a dirty look before going on their way. But it seemed you’d affected the woman so deeply, she’d mindlessly circled around the motel today during her walk with her husband, only to be greeted by the sight of you with someone much different.

You could tell she was married by her two wedding rings on her left hand and the man’s golden band on his finger. She wrapped her fingers together and pressed them against her chest, a smile spreading across her lips at the sight of you with Dean, a much different version from the last she saw. “Oh, look at them, Harold.” The woman whispered underneath her breath, almost as she thought you couldn’t hear her. You raised your brow at how she was acting. A second later, she must have realized you were staring at her, wondering why the hell she was here. “I just wanted to apologize dear last night for how rudely I behaved. Love is love. Right? Long as you’re happy. But I’ve been in your shoes before. Dating an older gentleman is nothing but trouble. Mmhm.”

“Right…” You said, nodding your head as you smiled at her.

“You think I’m a loon. I know. I tend to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. Call it the natural mother in me–having six daughters will do that to you. And I can sense boy trouble from a mile away. You, my dear, were in a situation that I was in before I met him.” The woman nodded her head to her husband. You looked over at the man, who was shaking his head, obviously annoyed at the situation he was dragged into, but you could tell he was smiling ever so slightly at her behavior. You glanced back at the woman when she continued talking. “I’m glad you dumped that old geezer. There was just something about seeing the both of you together that seemed….off. But seeing you with him, it’s more natural. Like…it’s meant to be. Gosh. You’re adorable. Aren’t they adorable, Harold?”

Her husband nodded with the obligatory “Yes, dear” as he gave you and Dean an apologetic smile from how his significant other was acting like. You found yourself looking at the woman a bit differently when she she gave the both of you another smile before apologizing for interrupting your day. And like that, she was off again, walking back to wherever she had came from. You slowly looked over at Dean, the both of you wondered what the hell just happened. But you thought to yourself for a moment about what she said, and how it was almost like your relationship was meant to be. Growing a small smile, you pulled Dean close and pressed your lips against his, deciding that she might be right about that.


	8. Changing Channels.

“Supernatural” is written before a live studio audience.

Dean Winchester has faced many obstacles and challenges during his hunting lifestyle of almost three decades. He’d been to Hell and back, been faced with some nasty demons along with not so friendly angels—including one that wanted to wear him like a cheap suit to prom, the apocalypse prom, that is. He tossed the can of cheese whizz back into the fridge and slammed the door shut after he’d gotten a little hungry this afternoon after giving up on that research his brother asked him to do. He faced the table where he’d prepared a sandwich with the food he’d found in the fridge. Only when he examined the creation that sat in the middle of the table, Dean realize he might have gone a little overboard with the ingredients stacked almost two feet high between two pieces of bread. You could say he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

Dean eyed the sandwich with a funny look, clearly, he was overwhelmed at what he’d done. He pursed out his lips and began trying to figure out how he could possibly take a first bite without getting all messy. He came out with one conclusion to solve this problem, “I’m gonna need a bigger mouth.” The audience let out a laugh, finding the oldest Winchester’s shenanigans always hilarious. Oh, when was that man ever going to learn? The front door to the motel opened just a few moments later by Sam, the always lovable rascal of a little brother. “Hey there, Sam. What’s happening?”

“Oh, nothing. Um…” Sam shut the door behind him and stepped inside more into the room. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on his hips while shrugging his shoulders, answering his brother with a playful and lighthearted tone, knowing the little goof they’ve pulled a few months ago was still lingering over their heads. “Just the end of the world.” Dean nodded his head and found himself smiling, the audience let out a few chuckles before drifting off into silence. Sam looked over to the table when he took notice of the two foot tall sandwich sat right in the middle. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re gonna need a bigger mouth.” Dean threw out his hand when his brother said the exact same thing, the audience let out another roar of laughter at the brothers’ famous way of repeating each other’s lines. “Hey, uh, have you done your research yet with you?”

Research? Dean was caught off guard from the question he should have known would be coming from his smarty pants of a little brother. He nervously licked his lips and subconsciously found his gaze lingering to the closed bathroom door for a moment of time, knowing what laid behind it. Dean quickly tore his gaze away as he pressed his fingertips together, trying his hardest to act calm while he told a little white lie to his brother. “Oh, yeah.” Dean said with an almost convincing tone. “All kinds of research. All night.”

“Yeah? Huh. You helped with the research and Y/N wasn’t stuck with it—like always?” Sam asked. The audience let out a laugh while Dean looked away, a guilty smile spreading across his lips. “Speaking of Y/N, where is she?”

“Oh, Dean…” The door to the bathroom opened, and if timing was the oldest Winchester’s best friend, it wasn’t too happy with the man today. A roar of cheering erupted from the audience when you peeked your head out with a smile growing on your lips, greeting the scene for the first time. You opened the door wider to show that you weren’t dressed in the usual uniform of flannel and dark worn out denim jeans. Leaning against the doorframe, you gave the oldest Winchester a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest, letting him see what you were specifically wearing for him. A few ‘oohs’ and wolf whistled came from the audience when you were dressed in nothing more than a silky kimono robe that hit just above your knee, and with nothing more than pretty lingerie that was meant to be seen by the older Winchester himself. Dean nervously swallowed at the sight of you, and from how his little brother was starting to shake his head. Uh, oh. “We have some more 'research’ to do.”

The audience oohed again, but this time, it was because the oldest Winchester was caught up in his lie. Dean let out a quiet sigh as he slowly turned his head to look at his little brother, knowing this wasn’t going to end very well. Sam tilted his chin down as he crossed his arms over his chest, obviously disappointed at the lie that he was told. “Dean…”

Dean looked straight ahead to say his famous catch phrase, “Son of a bitch!”

“Town to town  
two-lane roads  
The family biz  
Two huntin’ bros and and a pretty cool gal  
Living the lie  
Just to get by-y-y-y…”

The fictional hunting lifestyle on the show Supernatural isn’t always fun and games for you and the boys. You have to venture into haunted houses and abandoned warehouses to catch the bad guy. But there’s always some shenanigans going on between two best friends. you, the always cautious one, made sure to keep an eye out for any possible monsters as you backed around slowly of the house that was harboring a vengeful spirit, who sure wasn’t choosing the dust and cobwebs as their next victim. As you slowly moved around her flashlight to examine the dusty furniture, you took another step backwards, unaware of the presence behind you.

You jumped out of her skin and quickly turned around to face the spirit you was hunting. Only it was the younger Winchester. Both of them let out a roar of a laugh from the accidental spook they gave each other. Sam placed a hand on her shoulder as you waved the flashlight underneath your face to make a scary which, which prompted the younger Winchester to laugh harder.

“As long as we’re moving forward  
There’s nothin’ we can’ do.”

Of course, sometimes the scares were a bit intentional. Hunting can be boring, and the cases that you and the boys take are false alarms. Just like that show Scooby Do, they teach you monsters who they hunt were just people dressed up as scary creatures. You decided to have a bit of fun. While you knew the younger Winchester was sent to do the daunting task of searching upstairs for any sort of clues like you told him to do.He looked around the mostly bare room, not seeing much evidence of a curse object. He headed over for the closet doors and began to slowly open them up, not expecting what was about to happen. 

You stood on the other side, and when you first saw him, you put her arms out in front of him and shouted “Boo!” to make him jump in fright. Sam quickly shut the doors and pressed his backside against the wood, his heart racing in fear at what he’d witnessed, not knowing just yet the figure in white was just you with a bedsheet draped over your body.

“Together, we’ll face the day  
You and I won’t run away.”

[Starring Jared Padalecki as Sam Winchester.]

Dean had two loves in his life. His once secret love for you, and the mint condition 1967 Chevy Impala, also known as Baby. You and Sam stood outside on a bright sunny day, nursing a cup of coffee as you watched the oldest Winchester tinkered around with the Impala with the hood open. When the job was done, Dean tried to lean for a kiss from you, but you backed away and wagged your index finger at him, knowing he was covered in grease. You tossed him a dirty rag to wipe his hands, but the man accidentally reached up and rubbed the sweat away from his forehead with his greasy hand. While the oldest Winchester finally started wiping his hands with the rag you tossed him, unaware of the accidental smudge across his forehead he’d made. 

Sam took notice when he started laughing and pointing a finger at the mishap. Dean furrowed his brow when you began laughing yourself, only when he realized what he’d done, the man let out a chuckle himself at the accidental goof he’d made.

 

[Jensen Ackles as Dean Winchester.]

But the boys don’t always use the Impala as a mode of transportation. Together they powered up a two-seat bike, where they peddled across the park on this sunny afternoon, knowing they had an important task to complete. However, they couldn’t help themselves when they got caught up in the moment. Sam let go of the handles and let his arms wave themselves in the air, as Dean kicked out his feet, both of them smiling like a bunch of idiots. You watched from the end of the sidewalk as they began peddling closer to you. You clapped and smiled at what they could do without getting hurt. When the boys arrived a few moments later, Dean jumped off the bike as Sam steadied it.

The older Winchester took out the flowers from the wicker basket and tried to secretly hide them behind his back. He approached you with a bashful smile when he moved his hands forward with the flowers. You were surprised by the unexpected gift from the man as you gingerly grabbed them. Pressing the fresh flowers to your nose, you took in a big sniff, smiling to yourself at the sweet floral aroma.

[Y/N Y/L/N starring as Y/N Y/L/N.]

A fun day in the park wouldn’t be complete without you and the boys’ new best friend, the friendly angel Cas. While the boys raced each other on mini scooters that were hilariously too small to their generous frame, you jumped onto the angel’s back for a piggy back ride he wasn’t expecting. He secured your legs with his hands before he started jogging around the park, both of you laughing from carefree day he was happily apart of.

[Misha Collins as Castiel.]

You cheered and hollered, playing the cheerleader for both teams as the boys competed a friendly game of tossing around a football. Sam stood a good distance away as he got ready to toss the ball to his brother. Dean watched with a close eye as the man slowly stretched his arm back, all before launching the ball into a perfect spiral. You nervously stood off in the sidelines as you began to chew on your nails, wondering if Dean was going to make that big catch. You watched the ball go flying straight up into the blue sky, all before landing right in the older Winchester’s grip. You threw your hands up into the air and cheered at what you saw, Dean proudly did a touchdown, throwing the ball own at the grass.

To celebrate, Dean raced over to you, and without warning, he lifted you up into his arms bridal style as you were thrown into a fit of giggles. He smiled at you, all before, sharing a quick and romantic kiss. Sam, however, couldn’t help himself but stick a finger into his mouth as he pretended to gag at the sign of affection from his brother and best friend.

[Guest starring Richard Speight Jr. as The Trickster.]

“Together we’ll face the day…  
When the demons come out to pla-a-y…”

Of course, a long day of hunting wouldn’t be complete without a couple of beers and burgers. You sat in the middle of the seating arrangement as the boys sat on each of your side. You lifted up your glass beer bottle, and to give a final hooray for a job well done, all of you clinked glasses and smiled. Almost as if there was a camera on you, and this was more than just a simple day of your life. You looked straight ahead, giving a sly wink. Not yet, at least.

\+ + +

Watching TV was one of those rare pleasures in the hunting lifestyle that you still had a chance to enjoy while you weren’t buried up to your eyeballs in research or hunting down the monster of the week. Before you started hunting you were a bit of a couch potato.You had a lot of free time on your hands when you weren’t doing research for the Winchester boys, and when you graduated high school, there wasn’t a friend in your neighborhood to keep you company. You would watch just about anything to keep your mind occupied, binging on TV shows and movies to help pass the time.

You were laying on the motel bed with your back pressed against the headboard for the past fifteen minutes to see if the boys were ready with a book lying on your lap, trying to finish up a chapter you were on. Sam was in the bathroom, trying to fix his tie as Dean was by your feet at the edge of the bed. He was mindlessly watching some show on the small motel TV. You weren’t paying much attention what it was, too engrossed in your own fictional world. You made a rough guess that Dean was probably caught up in some hospital soap opera that played in the early afternoon. You decided to take a chance and see what it was all about, wondering what was making Dean so hypnotized from the look on his face.

Setting the book face down on your lap to save your spot, you looked over at the television to take a moment to see what this was all about. You watched as the scene unfolded with a group of a hospital staff emerged out from the elevator and dispersed off in different directions before going off camera, leaving a doctor and another nurse. The two of them strolled into the elevator and took opposite sides of the small space, keeping a relatively calm stance, but when the doors closed, all caution was thrown to the wind. Your eyebrows shot up when the doctor pounced on the woman, pushing her up against the wall before pressing his lips against hers. Both of them weren’t holding back on the acting as you watched them heavily make out, the doctor took it up a notch as he kicked his foot up against the wall’s banister, hooking his shoe against the metal bar to keep her pinned in place. You found yourself titling your head to the side as you furrowed your brow, wondering why he was wearing cowboy boots.

“What are you guys watching?”

Sam’s voice coming from the bathroom door made you realize you were staring at the screen with the same expression as Dean. You quickly covered your tracks as you scratched behind your ear to pretend that you weren’t engaging with mind numbing drama. “What? I’m not watching it.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Dean was the one who’s watching it.”

“It’s some hospital show.” Dean said. He shrugged his shoulders, seeming unsure of what he was watching himself. “‘Dr. Sexy, M.D.’ I think it’s based on a book.”

Sam chuckled to himself as he fixed the cuffs of his dress shirt, making sure everything was neatly in place as you kicked your feet off the bed and pressed out any wrinkles in your skirt. You began slipping on your heels that laid abandoned on the carpet as Sam began walking across the motel to fetch his jacket from the chair. “When did you hit menopause?” He asked his brother, Dean replied with an irritated eye roll.

“It’s called channel surfing.” Dean said, almost not wanting to be accused of enjoying the program. He pushed himself to the bed and walked over to the dresser where the small TV was so he could shut it off, leaving only a blank screen. “You ladies ready yet?”

You nodded your head as you slipped on your blazer to complete the final professional look you were aiming for. You stepped into the perfect alignment of the bathroom mirror from your spot in the motel room to fix your hair and make sure everything was in place. “The important question is,” You looked over your shoulder to point a finger at the older Winchester, “Are you?”

\+ + +

“One more time—the F.B.I is here why, exactly?”

You drummed your fingertips against the wooden countertop of the Wellington police station, finding a simple conversation with the sheriff behind the front desk a little more troublesome than you once thought. You’d came across a strange attack in the newspaper while you and the boys were strolling through town trying to find something to pass the time. There wasn’t much exciting things going out in the world. No signs of demonic activity as your friends from above were keeping their lips shut, for now. You still couldn’t find any sort of activity around the world that would help you figure out the whereabouts of Jesse, so you kept yourself busy by lurking on the web for a case. And you’d found one, all right. You might have felt a little deja vu from a case you’d taken about a year ago around the same time.

“Well, it might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off.” You said, answering his question with a bit of information that was the reason why you were here in the first place.

“Bill Randolph died from a bear attack.” The sheriff replied, not sure why a fight with mother nature’s beastly creatures required the work of three F.B.I agents that were practicing with fake badges. But he didn’t know that small little detail, just like he didn’t know that not every dead body that comes through the morgue was caused by nature or humans, for that matter.

“How sure are you that it was a bear?” Sam asked the sheriff.

“What else would it be?” The sheriff replied with another question.

“Well, whatever it was, it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door, followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom.” You said. You’ve heard of a few strange cases of bear attacks yourself, it was pretty common, most of the deaths would end with the victim having their chest ripped open. But you’d met a bear, a stuffed animal, per se, that was almost harmless. All he did was cry about his problems and try drinking himself to death. But you had a feeling this wasn’t the exact same situation you were dealing with as before. “I mean, I’ve seen a strange bear…sightings myself when they’re provoke. But is that common—a bear doing all of that?”

“Depends on how pissed off it is, I guess.” The sheriff remarked, you could hear the faintest amount of snark in his tone. Clearly he didn’t like new blood coming into his town and questioning his choices as a police officer, especially from a younger generation who thought they knew and seen everything. “Look, the Randolphs lived way up in High Country. You got trout runs that’ll make a grown man weep…and bears.”

“Right.” Sam agreed with the man. “Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing.”

“Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman.” The sheriff said with a solemn tone. Dean found himself asking if the wife said it was a bear attack. You watched as the sheriff switched his body language, he let out a quiet sigh, knowing this was where the situation had gotten a bit sticky. “Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She’s confused.”

You looked at the sheriff with a skeptical look, wondering what he was trying to hide from you and the boys. “What did she say?”

“No. I-It must have been a bear. I-I mean, what else could have it been?” Kathy Randolph nervously chuckled as she retold the story she’d given the police a few days ago for her statement, in the exact same police room. She glanced down at her lap as her fingers neatly folded together, you looked over at the younger Winchester for a brief moment, knowing just from the newly widow’s behavior that she was hiding something. Sam, being the most empathetic out of all you, quietly spoke the woman’s name, drawing her gaze up to him, he leaned forward in his seat as he gave her a warm smile before asking what she really thought happened. Mrs. Randolph let out a very quiet sigh, mentally struggling if she should just come out with it, or just bottled it up so she wouldn’t spend a weekend at the psych ward at the hospital from her outlandish answer. “No. I-I remember it clearly now. It was definitely a bear.”

“We’re sure it was.” Dean agreed with the woman as he slowly nodded his head. “But see, it—it helps us to hear, uh, every angle. So, just tell us what you thought you saw.” 

“Well, it’s impossible, but…I could have sworn I saw…” Mrs. Randolph hesitantly tried to give the truth, but she began speaking slower, and much more hesitantly. She wrangled her fingers tighter underneath the table as she nervously began eyeing your facial expression, trying to see just a spec of doubt. But when you gave her your full attention, the woman felt comfortable enough to admit the truth as she almost blurted it out. “…The incredible hulk.” Your response was absolute silence. Over the past few months you’d witnessed just about the strangest amount of things than you have in your years of hunting. From a pagan god that disguised itself as people’s valued icons to a witch who played a game of poker, but instead it was for years. You slowly looked away from the woman as you glanced over at Dean, the both of you shared the same look, Sam repeated the woman’s answer with a calm tone, almost as if he wanted to make sure that what he heard was right. “I told you. It’s crazy.”

Sam tried his hardest to wrap his mind around what he’d just heard. The Incredible Hulk was a character from the comic books to the big screen, what he was doing in the small town of Wellington, Ohio was what made him speechless. So, Dean being the man he was, decided his take on making sense of what was happening by putting a face to the monster from a few possible suspects. “Bana or Norton?”

“Oh, no. Those movies were terrible.” Mrs. Randolph said, shaking her head. “The TV hulk.”

“Lou Ferrigno?” You asked her, wondering if that’s what she meant. Mrs. Randolph quickly nodded her head, you raised your brow in surprise. “Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno?”

Mrs. Randolph nodded her head yet again, knowing that was exactly who she had seen. You gave her a smile as the boys exchanged a look, wondering what might have been going on, but she took it as a sign of doubt from her faulty story that was too bizarre to be true. “Oh, you think I’m crazy.” She whispered to herself as she looked down at the table to avoid any awkward eye contact. She should have listened to the sheriff when he advised her just to stick with the same story she told him, it sure wouldn’t have lead her to the embarrassing situation she was putting herself through in front of the three of you.

“No. No, i—it’s just—is there, uh…” Dean tried his hardest to form a complete sentence, but just like a bunch of immature men, you looked over slightly to see the boys were finding it hard to keep a straight face as they tried covering up their smiles with coughs or adjustment in their seats. You, however, easily handled the situation by stepping the tip of your heel into Sam’s foot as you roughly elbowed Dean in the ribcage, making them focus again. Before Mrs. Randolph could notice, you gave her another friendly smile, letting Dean finish his question with much more of a serious tone. “Would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, uh, would have a grudge against your husband?”

Mrs. Randolph, the one who admitted she’d seen a fictional character rip her own husband’s head off, had the audacity to look at the older Winchester like he was the crazy one from what he’d asked her. “What? No.”

\+ + +

You weren’t the type of person who wished harm, or the fatal consequence of death, upon others. You’d seen true evil in the face with the things that you hunted day to day. But while they’d gotten what was deserved after you killed them, putting one monster six feet under, you knew there was still other sorts of things out in the world you never personally had to deal with from your own kind on a daily basis. Murder, abuse, torture of cute little animals. Danger could strike just about anywhere if you weren’t safe. But you were pretty capable of keeping yourself out of trouble if somehow someone tried to attack you in a bar while you were enjoying a few. Or if, God forbid, something in Dean’s mind snapped to where he tried laying a finger on you. His body would dead before it touched the ground. But not many others were that luck when it came to domestic violence. While you might not have been able to see Mrs. Randolph’s scars, the police reports you found online that were filed against her husband told a much different story.

You were back at the motel once again after having the interview with Mrs. Randolph to get her side of the story while the boys decided to check out the crime scene. You had your laptop open with a few browsers to the article about Bill Randolph’s death and the police reports filed against him. But they laid abandoned at the table. You found yourself being drawn back to the television, a little bit bored when you found what you could. Soon enough, you were in the same position that Dean was in before all of you left, sitting at the edge of the bed with your full attention on this show, Dr. Sexy M.D.

It was a bit of a struggle to get into at first, but when they stopped making out, the writing wasn’t half bad, and the plot was pretty interesting to get into. You leaned forward as you placed your elbows on your thighs to cradle your head, intently watching as a team of doctors and nurses work together at saving some little boy’s life. You were so invested in trying to find out if Dr. Sexy had found out the antidote for the rare snake bite for the little boy, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the motel door swing open.

You managed to switch off the television with the remote that Dean complained about not being able to find just in time before either of the boys could figure out what you were doing. Sam gave you a bit of a confused look, wondering why you were acting so shaky as you gave him a smile, trying your hardest to act normal. “Hey,” You greeted the brothers as you pushed yourself off the bed and headed back over to your laptop. “You guys find anything?”

“Well, uh, we saw the house.” Sam said, tossing the keys back into his pocket. You gave him a curious look, wondering what kind of destruction this bear could have caused. “And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be. Almost like…”

“A hulk-sized hole.” You presumed, Sam honestly didn’t know what to think from the look on his face.

“Maybe.” He said. “What do you got?”

“Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. Uh, he’s got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions.” You said, moving your finger around on the mousepad to bring up the browsers with the police charges filed against the man. “You might say you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”

“So, a hothead getting killed by TV’s greatest hothead. Kind of sounds like just desserts, doesn’t it? It’s all starting to make sense.” Sam quietly chuckled, almost as if he was starting to have a conversation with himself. You glanced up from the computer screen to give him a teasing look, wondering what he was getting at here. You watched as he put a hand into his pocket, fetching around for something that you couldn’t see just yet.all before he pulled out his hand. You notice he was holding something with a fist so little scraps of a golden wrapper peeked out from the crooks of his fingers. “Well, Dean and I found something else at the crime scene. Candy wrappers. Lots of 'em.”

You reached out a hand to grab a few of the candy wrappers to examine them for a few moments, taking in the information you were given from Sam, you found your grip tighten around the papers until your knuckles turned white. “Just deserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill them. Ah, damn it.” You muttered underneath your breath. “We’re dealing with the trickster, aren’t we?”

Sam was already halfway across the motel room, shrugging off his jacket before tossing it to the bed when he answered your speculation. “Sure looks like it.”

“I sure hope so.” Dean said. You glanced over his way, knowing the man shared the exact same feelings of the monster as you did. “Been wanting to gank that mother since mystery spot.”

“You sure?” Sam asked his older brother. Dean looked up at the man from the chair he’d grabbed at the table that was right across from where you’d been sitting. He gave the man a look, obviously he was pretty sure about his plan of venging on a creature that he once thought was dead after you shoved a stake through his chest, all before slipping through his fingers one too many times after that incident. “No. I mean, are you sure you want to kill him?”

“Son of a bitch didn’t think twice about icing me or Y/N—a thousand times.” Dean said, his tone rising a bit more to show his buried hatred for the trickster.

“No. I know.” Sam said. “I-I mean, I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying, Sammy?” You questioned the younger man. You narrowed your eyes on him, wondering what he was trying get at here. “If you don’t want to kill him, then what? Torture that son of a bitch nice and slow? If so, you got my vote.”

“No, Y/N. Talk to him.” Sam insisted on going a more gentler approach, your reaction was what he’d expect. You leaned forward in your seat as you loudly slammed your elbows on the table while your hands cradled your head. You stared at him directly in the eye so he could see your anger that was slowly starting to build. “Look, think about it, guys. He’s one of the most powerful creatures we’ve ever met. Maybe we can use him.”

Dean furrowed his brow in confusion as his brother’s thinking, “For what?”

“Okay, trickster’s like a—like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song. Maybe he doesn’t want the party to end. I mean,” Sam proposed the idea that had been rattling inside his mind since him and his brother agreed who might have been responsible for all of this. But from the stares that you and Dean were giving him, you weren’t so enthusiastic about jumping on board. “Maybe he hates this 'angels and demons’ stuff as much as we do. Maybe he’ll help us.”

“You’re serious? Ally with the trickster? A bloody, violent monster—and you want to be Facebook friends with him?” You asked him in a dead serious tone. Sam responded with a nod of the head, you forced out a chuckle as you reached for your lukewarm cup of tea that sat next to your computer to take a sip. “Right, because trusting monsters worked out well before. Nice, Sammy.”

“The world is gonna end, Y/N. We don’t have the luxury of a moral stand. I’m just saying, it’s worth a shot. That’s it.” Sam said, trying to make his true intentions clear. You looked at him with a skeptical expression as you took another sip of your drink, he decided to throw in another plan to his idea that you would agree with. “If it doesn’t work, you can kill him.”

“Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He’ll show.” Sam said, sounding sure of himself.

\+ + +

Waiting around for the next trick wasn’t fun. You and the boys circled around the police walkie talkie that was programmed to the station so you could eavesdrop on the latest crimes being reported on. So far the only things happening in town were reports of a noise complaint, a possible breaking and entering, but nothing out of the ordinary that made you stand on your toes. While Dean busied himself by carving a few stakes out of wood, you and Sam kept yourselves busy by staring at the walkie talkie, as if it was going to magically give you the information that you wanted to hear. It’d been almost three hours. You were sure he’d be pulling another prank by now, it had been almost two days, and knowing the trickster, he wasn’t a patient man when it came to striking vengeance. He liked doing it on a daily basis. But like a prayer that seemed to have been answered, a voice came from the walkie talkie, and it wasn’t about an old lady’s cat being stuck in a tree.

“Uh, dispatch? I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on route six.”

Sam called for his brother’s attention as you turned up the volume so all of you could hear more clearly the exchange between two officers. “Roger that. What are you looking at, son.”

“Honestly, Walt, I wouldn’t even know how to begin to describe what I’m seeing. Just, um, send everybody.”

You reached out to turn off the device as you looked over at the boys, wondering if they were thinking that it might be exactly what you had been waiting for. “That sounds weird.” Dean said.

“Weird enough to be our guy?” Sam asked, not wanting to jump the gun on this one.

You shrugged your shoulders, “There’s only one way to find out.

\+ + +

It didn’t take long for you to get the directions to this old paper mill and gather up other supplies that you might need. You and the boys arrived at the crime scene about twenty minutes later, and by this time, you were at least expecting this place to be crawling with cop cars. But when the Impala pulled up to the warehouse, you peeked out the backseat window and examined the gravel parking lot, there wasn’t a single soul in this place. You were starting to get a strange vibe when Dean put the car into park and headed out first, you and his brother following suit. You examined the area for a moment as you leaned slightly over while you kept a grip around the backseat door, wondering if you might entered through the back and the chaos was unfolding on the other side. But you were only greeted with the crunch of the boys’ shoes underneath the gravel as they made their way towards the trunk.

“There was a murder here,” Dean said with a bit of skepticism, as he examined the abandoned area with a cautious eye. "And there’s no police cars—there’s nobody. How does that look to you?”

“Crappy.” You muttered underneath your breath.

You grabbed the flashlight and stake from Dean as you took another chance to take a look around at the area. Why was it when you were battling bad guys they always had to pick the worst setups? Warehouses, old houses, it was all the same cliched setting. Why couldn’t the monster pick somewhere more nicer to pick their victims. Maybe a swanky hotel you could stay in, or maybe a ghost could be haunting a fancy restaurant. But no. You waited in the middle as Dean opened up the door for Sam to go in first as you followed behind, leaving the older Winchester as backup for the both of you in case something went wrong. And it sure did. But neither one of you could expect this to happen so fast.

When the door slammed shut, you suddenly felt different, from your bare hands, all the way down to your clothes. You weren’t in the old paper mill anymore, that was for sure. It seemed you and the boys took a wrong turn down the yellow brick road and landed yourselves right in the middle of a busy hospital wing You blinked in absolute confusion as you stared at your new surroundings with faces you’d never seen before. When you glanced down at your hands to see where your equipment went, you felt your eyes widen slightly at what happened to your clothes.

You were dressed in what appeared to be pale blue scrubs and very comfortable shoes, and from what you felt around your neck, an added touch of a stethoscope. You slowly looked over to your right when you wondered if the boys were still here with you, and they were, but they also had a costume change. Both of them were dressed in navy blue scrubs and long white lab coats. From the looks on their faces, it was easy to tell all of you had no idea what was going on here. And to make matters worse, you looked straight ahead to see two women casually stroll by, giving both men a warm smile as they greeted them.

“Doctor. Doctor.” The two women nodded their heads at the two men, acknowledging the brothers. But when they glanced over at you, it seemed you weren’t given the special treatment, their lips stretched into a tight smile as only the blonde gave you a nod. “Nurse Y/N.”

You gave them both a dirty look, making them scurry off to wherever they came from. You let out a sigh as you looked over at the boys, wondering if they had a single clue to figure out of what was going on here, but they could only shrug their shoulders. You looked over your shoulder to see there was a closed door behind you, probably the same one that you came through. Hoping for an exit out of this place, you swung open the door, only to see it was a closet, with two other doctors heavily making out. You quickly slammed the door, deciding that it wasn’t a way out, and it was rude to stare. You and the boys didn’t need to exchange any looks before the three of you were off, trying to figure out what was going on here, and most importantly, a way out.

“Doctor?” You only made it a few steps before a small woman came out of nowhere, and before you realized, she hauled off and smacked Sam right across the cheek. You slightly winced at the sound as the younger man let out a noise, showing that it was very real. You looked to see that it was a woman dressed in the same outfit as you. She stared at Sam with a perplex expression, but it was easy to see she was overwhelmed with sadness for the man. But it wasn’t about the guilt of slapping him. “Seriously, you’re brilliant, you know that? Seriously. And a coward. You’re a billant coward.”

“Uh,” Sam wasn’t sure how to respond, “What are you talking about?”

But it seemed that was the wrong response the woman was looking for. She brought up her arm and slapped Sam right across the cheek again. “As if you don’t know.” She whispered to him. And if that, you watched as she walked off with her head held high, leaving you even more confused at what just unfolded right in front of your very eyes.

“I don’t believe this.” Dean muttered underneath his breath with absolute astonishment. You furrowed your brow as you looked over at the man, he stared down at the hall with a growing smile. “That was Dr. Piccolo. Dr. Ellen Piccolo. The sexy-yet-earnest doctor at…” You watched as Dean began to take slow steps forward down the hall and closer to the nurse’s station. You looked over to see the man point out the name of the hospital when he gestured it wildly with his arm. “Seattle Mercy Hospital.”

“Uh, Dean,” You walked forward to him as you cautiously looked around the place, but when you made eye contact with one of the nurses at the desk, you gave her a friendly smile before turning your attention to the oldest Winchester. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The doctor get ups. The sexy interns. The 'seriouslys.’ It all makes sense.” Dean said, seeming to come closer to a conclusion faster than you and his brother. You stared at him with a frustrated expression, almost getting ready to shake the answer right out of him, but he gave you a clue of where you ended up. And it’d be the last place you’d suspect. “We’re in 'Dr. Sexy, M.D.’”

You’d been back in time, you’ve been thrown into the future. You even spent a few months in Hell. But you haven’t had the chance to being transported into another dimension where fiction became a reality, if that’s what you would call this place. Everything around you seemed too real, from the people, to the walls around you. Patients and doctors strolled around the halls, going on with their daily lives like how one might expect of how a hospital should function. You and the boys quietly strolled down the halls trying to keep to yourselves. While Dean kept whispering what the hell, Sam was at a lost for words of what could be going on and how all of you gotten here.

“One theory. Any theory.” Dean hissed. “Y/N, you’re the smart one.”

“Uh,” You told him the first thing that came to mind, “the trickster trapped us in TV land?”

“That’s your theory? That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re the one who said we’re on 'Dr. Sexy, M.D.” Sam jumped into the conversation to your defense when you gave the other man a dirty look when Dean denied your only working theory.

“Yeah, but TV land isn’t TV land. I mean, there’s actors a-and lights and crew members. You know? This looks real.” Dean said as looked around at the hospital again. Nothing peeked out to him as out of the ordinary as his brother argued about how this couldn’t possibly be real. But the older Winchester found himself distracted when he stopped in tracks at the sight of a familiar doctor, his lips stretched into a faint smile as he observed her walking down the hall. “Oh, but there goes Dr. Wang, the sexy-but-arrogant heart surgeon. And there’s Johnny Drake. Oh, he’s not even alive. He’s the ghost in the mind of…” You looked over your shoulder to see there was a man down at the end of the hall quietly sitting on a gurney by himself, all before another doctor came up to him and gave him a warm smile. “Of her, the sexy-but-neurotic doctor over there.”

You found yourself scoffing at what you just heard, “So this show has ghosts? Why?”

“I don’t know.” Dean said. “It is compelling.”

“I thought you said you aren’t a fan.” You whispered to him, a smirk growing on your lips.

“I’m not. I‘m not.” Dean tried to deny the accusation, but what unfolded next made his truth fly out the window. You looked down the hall when you saw Dean’s expression change entirely, it was like he was star struck, you furrowed your brow at the stranger coming down the hall. You had to look twice before you realized who the handsome face really was. “It’s him. It’s Dr. Sexy.”

You examined the face that was approaching you that you had been watching on TV before you and the boys landed yourselves in this situation. Inhaling a deep breath, you understood why his last name worked so well. “Damn, he’s…sexy.” You whispered to yourself. “That’s for sure.”

You found yourself letting your lips stretch into a smile when the doctor approached the three of you while Dean avoided eye contact all together. He seemed rather bashful, seeing one of his favorite characters come to life. “Doctor.” Dr. Sexy greeted the man first. Dean slowly lifted his gaze from the floor to give the same formal title back to the man, all while trying to keep a straight face. Sam rolled his eyes when the man tried doing it to him, but with a rough jab to the elbow, he forced himself to repeat the stupid dialogue. When you found the doctor’s eyes landing on you, a creep of color began to spread across your cheeks. “Nurse Y/N.”

Before you could repeat the formal greeting, you found your lips being a little preoccupied by something else. Out of nowhere, you felt the doctor become a little bit too warming for your own comfort. Almost like the cycle of the show, you found yourself sharing a romantic kiss with the doctor, who had swooped you off your feet to press his lips against yours. All though your brain was screaming at you to pull away, there was something about him that made you stay for a split second, enjoying the sweet taste that was coming off from him, almost like candy. But before you could make the connection, he pulled away, making you breathless to speak. And as if nothing happened, the doctor looked over at Dean, who was staring at the man with an infuriated glare.

“You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Beale?”

Dean stared at the man, knowing there was something wrong here, and it wasn’t just about making out with nurses out in the open. He glanced down at the doctor’s shoes, another red flag for him. Without a warning, Dean rammed the man against the wall, pinning his arm roughly against his chest so he wouldn’t go anywhere. “You’re not Dr. Sexy.” Dean accused the man of carrying a false identity. The doctor narrowed his eyes on the hunter, thinking the accusation was crazy. “Really? 'Cause I swore this hospital had a no tolerance for PDA. You just don’t go around kissing people without their permission. And part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots, not tennis shoes.”

“Yeah, you’re not a fan.” Sam mumbled.

“It’s a guilty pleasure.” Dean argued with his little brother. Dr. Sexy looked over at the approaching crowd and told them to call security. “Yeah, go ahead, pal. See, we know what you are.”

From the accusation, everything seemed to have stopped in time, like someone had paused life. You cautiously looked around to see everyone around you was frozen in place, except for the three of you. When you looked straight ahead at the doctor, you found yourself rolling your eyes at the very familiar face you were hoping to see, with a grin you wanted to smack right off his face “You guys are getting better.”

“Get us the hell out of here, you dick.” You hissed at him.

“Or what?” The trickster asked you. He seemed to have found Dean, a man who was a little taller, easy to take down as he pushed him away by squeezing on his forearm. From the look of pain that settled on Dean’s face, the trickster inflicted some serious damage he wasn’t expecting. “Don’t see your wooden stakes, sweetcheeks. But I see you brought a couple of knuckleheads for show.”

“That was you on the police scanner, right?” You asked him. “This is one of your stupid tricks.”

“Hello-o-o-o? Trickster!” He made it clear enough by pointing at his face, you gave him a dirty look. “Come on! I heard you and your two yahoos were in town. How could I resist?”

“Right. Well, I’m trying to resist the urge of punching you in your stupid face.” You said, rolling your eyes. “Where the hell are we?”

"You like it, sugar? It’s all homemade. My own sets, my own actors.” The trickster prove to be powerful when he rapped his knuckles on the glass window and gestured to all the people around him who were made to believe they were their characters they played on TV. “Call it my own little idiot box.” You gave him a serious look, and painfully, you politely asked him how you could get out of here before you tempted yourself with choking the answer out of him. “That, my friend, is the sixty-four dollar question.”

“Whatever. We just—We need to talk to you.” Sam said. “We need your help.”

“Hmm. Let me guess. You three muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess?” The trickster presumed. Sam, being the only one who was trying to play nice, asked only five minutes of the man’s time. “Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we’ll talk.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, “Survive what?”

“The game.” The trickster answered with a grin.

“What game?”

“You’re in it.”

“…How do we play?”

“You’re playing it.”

“How do we play it, you jackass?” You asked him your final question between clenched teeth.

The trickster answered with a smirk, you knew that wasn’t a good sign, because when you blinked, the man was gone from your sight, all before putting everything back to normal. You found yourself rolling your eyes as Dean muttered his favorite catchphrase underneath his breath. When you got your hands on the trickster, he was good as dead, that was for sure.

\+ + +

You’ve never wanted someone’s bloody severed head on a spike more than you had at this very moment. Over the past three years the trickster has been a thorn in your side that you tried ignoring after your second visit from him had ended with him slipping through your fingers again, thanks to the younger Winchester. All of this, and the mystery spot incident, could have been avoided if he had just stayed dead from the first fatal meeting ended with him getting stabbed in the chest with the wooden spike you jammed into his chest. But it seemed your attempt at pulling a prank on him only ended with him laughing, because he sent in a doppelganger to do his dirty work. But you weren’t that dumb. If he wanted you to play this stupid game, fine. Lucifer could wait just a little longer, and there was no angel or demon to mess with you, the only target you had your sights on was the trickster himself. He might have gotten you and the boys cornered, but you were coming out swinging when he least suspected it. After all, if he wanted you to play a certain role, that was just fine. He just needed to know you liked to improvise on the script.

“Oh, by the way—talking to monsters? Hell of a plan, Sammy.” You turned the corner of the hospital you and the boys were still trapped in after the trickster vanished from your sight. Sam walked behind you, and from the tone of your voice, he didn’t need to see the expression on your face to realize you were beyond pissed off. He could have saved you the trouble of being ambushed if he just listened to you. But, no. The younger Winchester let out a sigh, knowing he was wrong, but all of you had bigger problems, like trying to figure out your next move. “You know what I’m doing? I’m getting the hell out of here and finding that son of a bitch.”

You managed to find a doorway that was labeled an exit in neon red letters, but before you could head for it, you were stumbling out of the way when a flash of brunette hair and blue scrubs came right into your vision from the corner of your eye. You got out of the way when Dr. Ellen Piccolo made her move again on Sam, but before he could fall victim to another backhanded slap, he dodged the assault, making her freeze. "Lady,” Sam warned her with a frustrated tone, “What the hell?”

Ellen stared at the man with a passionate and fiery gaze, “You are a brillant, brillant—”

“Yeah, a coward. You already said that. But I got news for you.” Sam cut the woman off, already knowing where this entire scene was going. He leaned down slightly to her level, wanting to make it crystal clear of what really was going on here. “I’m not a doctor.”

“Don’t say that. You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met…and I have met plenty.” Ellen told him. You looked at her slightly with a funny gaze, wondering what was unfolding right in front of your eyes. Sam tried his hardest not to roll his eyes as she kept going on with her nonsense. “So that girl died on your table. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”

Sam nodded his head slowly, "I have no idea what you’re saying to me.”

“You’re afraid.” Ellen said. You could see her eyes were becoming glazed over as she stared at the man in front of her, from your guess of the trickster’s obnoxious and tasteless sense of humor, very passionate love interest. The more you let this show unravel, the more you felt like you just stepped into a soap opera gone wrong. “You’re afraid to operate again, and you’re afraid to love again.”

You stepped out of the way when Ellen squeezed herself between you and Dean, disregarding the both of you, almost as if she didn’t realize you were standing there. You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh as Ellen dramatically walked down the hall, Dean, however, looked at his brother with complete surprise at what had unfolded right in front of his eyes. It seemed he was taken back himself at the level of drama that was unfolding right in front of his eyes. Sam shrugged his shoulders, knowing for a fact he’d never seen that woman before his life until today, and you were right about getting out of here. The three of you only managed to get a few feet before somebody else popped out from an open doorway of what you were presuming was a hospital room. Rolling your eyes in frustration, you stopped in your tracks and looked at the man, but it was Dean who he was speaking to.

“Doctor?” The man standing in the doorway timidly asked. Dean tried his hardest not to walk away, instead, he decided to give the man five seconds of his time to see what he wanted, hoping it would be of importance. Of course, it was just some stupid storyline to go along with the hospital drama.“My wife needs that face transplant.”

"Okay.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, having enough with this show. He looked at the man with a dead serious expression to tell him the bitter truth of his reality. “You know what, pal? None of this is real, okay? And your wife doesn’t need jack squat.”

Dean thought that maybe the man could understand his reality was false, and that he was just living through a scripted TV show that came on once a week for an hour runtime. But it seemed he couldn’t get that through his thick skull, as the show kept going, only for a dramatic twist to spice things up. You looked over your shoulder slightly when you heard the man call out again, but this time, he was done talking civilly. You didn’t notice the gun he pulled out from his back pocket, and when you did, it was too late.You heard the familiar sound of a gunshot echoing through your ears, and someone’s tight grip around your forearm. Quickly looking over at Dean, you realized that this reality the trickster put you in was very real, and the bullet in Dean’s back was pumping blood that wasn’t a prop. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt yourself being dragged to your knees as Dean found the pain becoming unbearable.

"No, no, no, no!” Sam panicked as dropped himself to his brother’s level. He tried to help the man work through the man, and without thinking he shouted on the top of his lungs for help as a small crowd began to form around all of you. “Hey! We need a doctor!”

“Sammy,” You got his attention after the younger Winchester frantically looked for help when it was all around you. “You do realize we’re in a hospital full of doctors, right?”

While you and the boys might have been in one of the safest places to get shot in, that didn’t mean the script of this reality would let Dean get treatment from a medically trained profession. You stood outside of the operating room with your lips pouted out to match the tightly furrowed brow on as you crossed over your chest in frustration. Dean was luckily being taken care of for the surgery they needed to complete, and while he might have been numbed up and lying face down, he was wide awake for the surgery—and Sam was his doctor. You tried your hardest to squeeze yourself into the operating room but you were quickly thrown out by a few of the female nurses after they claimed you were just an intern.

So you were forced to wait on the other side of the glass, watching Sam’s every little move he made. When you saw appear from the corner of your eye, you slowly turned your head to see that it was Ellen standing right next to you. She stared on at the younger Winchester with almost a proud gaze, thinking it was brave of him to conquer his fear of losing another patient by trying to help save the life of his older brother. You found yourself rolling your eyes so far in the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes showed before it started to hurt.

“B.P. is eighty over fifty…and dropping.”

If you were having a rough time here, Sam felt like someone had thrown him to the wolves. He was surrounded by nurses who were talking medical that even he didn’t understand and handing him tools that he didn’t know how to use. Sam wasn’t a stranger to bullet wounds, he’d faced plenty in his time of hunting, and patched up a few himself. But all he needed was some hard whiskey, a switchblade and a sewing needle to get the job done. The female nurse at his right side wouldn’t stop trying to give him a scalpel, even though his hands were clearly filled with some gauze as he tried to stop Dean’s wound from bleeding so much. The nurse tried again to get him to grab the scalpel, nervously swallowing, her gave her a small smile and shook his head.

“Sam, do something.” Dean hissed at his little brother, knowing his life was on the line. It wasn’t exactly perfect timing for the other man to get stage fright when he was nearly bleeding to death. Oh, and the bullet lodged in his back wasn’t all that great either. “Come on.”

“I don’t know how to use any of this crap.” Sam admitted, making sure to keep his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Figure it out!” Dean wasn’t in the mood to hear the man’s excuses. These kind of hospital dramas could go either way. He could survive and make a miraculous recovery after the doctor figured out a genius plan that no other could think of. Or the doctor could freeze up, having flashbacks of his previously failed attempts at saving a life, only adding another one to the list. It was a storyline for an episode during the second season for Dr. Sexy. Dean, however, didn’t want to find out which role the trickster had for him. “Sam! Come on. I’m waiting.”

“Okay, um, I need a…penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey.” Sam found the instructions coming out from his mouth just a few seconds later after he allowed himself to emerge into the role. You were happy to see there was progress being made, but you found yourself slowly finding a strange shift in the mood of the scene. The two nurses standing at the man’s side gave one another a look, and while their mouths were covered, it wasn’t hard to see the passion, or maybe it was lust, growing in their eyes at how Sam was taking control of the situation. Sam, however, was losing his patience with everyone. “Stat!”

In just the matter of minutes Sam got what he needed to operate and got to work. You watched as the man took out the bullet, dropping it out as it made a soft clanking noise against the metal table next to him that only he could hear. And just a few minutes later, he was stitching up Dean’s wounds, announcing to his brother that he’d make a full recovery. Sam turned to tell you the good news, but he found his gaze lingering over to Ellen, who been watching him the entire time. She stared at him with a soft smile as her hands rested in the pockets of her lab coat. It wasn’t hard to see her cheeks were stained with tears after she began crying at how easy the man gotten over his fear of operating once more. To make matters worse, when she made eye contact with him, her smile grew as she mouthed “I love you” to him and pressed her palm against the glass. Sam found himself getting weirded out as she stared lovingly at him.

While Sam tried brushing off the incident as nothing, he slowly dragged his attention away from the woman, and to you. But you weren’t helping one bit. You stood just a foot away from her, only adding more drama to the scene. Your fingers traced a heart figure in the air and winked at him. Only that wasn’t enough. Sam gave you his infamous bitch face as you pressed your palms against the glass and dramatically mouthing “I love you” as Ellen had did. You found yourself breaking the stare as you began laughing from the deadly glare Sam was giving you from the operating room. You and the boys had completed your first role, little did you know this was the beginning of what the trickster had planned.

\+ + +

Everything sort of happened faster than you could process. First you were standing outside of the Settle Mercy Hospital hallway in comfortable scrubs and sneakers, and then all of a sudden, your senses were being pounded with loud noises and indistinct voices you couldn’t understand. You felt there was a breeze against your skin, but as you tried to take in a breath, you found yourself coughing as your smell and sight being blocked by smoke. You shut your eyes for a moment as you tried to wave away the smoke from wherever it came from. While you were beginning to suspect the trickster had thrown you into another show, what you were about to see would be the least of your guesses. Everything around you was colorful and too bright for your eyes to handle from the stage lights straight ahead. You squinted your eyes slightly to see that you were on a stage and with an audience just ahead, but it was hard to see nothing more than shadowy figures without distinct faces. However, you did see two familiar faces, only they were in a pretty strange predicament. Just…not as bad as yours.

“What the…” You furrowed your brow as you looked around for a moment, knowing right away from the setup of this place that you and the boys had landed yourselves on the set of a game show. And while the boys were the players, you must have been Vanna White, minus the swanky dresses. Your hands quickly pressed themselves against your bare midriff, heat creeping into your cheeks at the skin you weren’t used to showing. "What the hell am I wearing?!“

You noticed right away the outfit wasn’t the least bit modest; from the itty bitty skirt that hit just above your knee and a top that worked more like a bra, not to mention a hideously bright white thigh high boots that pulled this outfit all together. Only for the added touch, you slowly touched the top of your head to feel that you were wearing some plastic headband. Your lips stretched into a frown when you realized they had devil horns on them. The rosy pink color on your cheeks began to darken when you heard someone softly whistle, and of course, Dean found the sight of you embarrassed and barely clothed amusing. You gave him a dirty look before averting your gaze, trying your hardest to find a way out of here, but the plan only stayed in action for a few seconds before the show continued on.

You quickly turned your head to the right of you when out of nowhere a man came strolling through a pair of double sliding doors that happened to be right next to you. He spoke with charisma and energy as he headed onto the stage with a bright smile. While the crowed loved him, you couldn’t understand a single word he was saying, because if you had to guess correctly at the outfits and crazy setup of the place, the next challenge was a Japanese game show.

"Let’s play ‘Nutcracker’!” The announce shouted with a grin, making the audience go wild with applause. You slightly winced at what was happening here as you examined the strange contraptions that the boys were in. Maybe you were starting to second guess at how you were handling this new show. The man pulled out a few cards from his pocket of his very metallic looking suit. You still couldn’t understand a single word he was saying, until, he spoke a very familiar man’s name. “Sam Winchester…” Sam was caught off guard and stared at you and his brother like a deer in headlights. The man couldn’t understand the question that was being asked of him in Japanese. “What was the name of the demon who chose you over your own brother?”

“What? Uh…What am I supposed to say?” Sam found himself baffled for a right answer. Normally he was good at these kind of things. You and him would sometimes watch games like Jeopardy and try to answer questions faster than the appointments. But this was far from what he was used to. He looked at you and his brother for help, but neither one of you had a clue of what was going on. And the ticking time wasn’t helping your anxiety of what might happen when it turned to zero. “Uh, I-I don't—I don’t understand, uh, japanese.” The host did just that, asking a simple question Sam should have known, only if he could understand what he really was saying.The younger Winchester let out a chuckle, “Is he screwing with me? I-I-I can’t speak japane—”

But it was too late. The time on the clock ran out an alarm buzzed, making it known Sam had lost this round. The host shook his head in disappointment as he looked down at his cards. “The answer is…Ruby.” He read off the paper, but neither one of you could still understand him, until he spoke a very familiar name. You furrowed your brow as Sam looked confused, wondering why a dead demon’s name was brought up. “I’m sorry, Sam Winchester.”

“Sorry?” Sam asked, a bit baffled at the early apology. “Sorry for what?”

It seemed you were going to understand how the show got its name after Sam took an unwanted demonstration. Your eyes widened in absolute shock when you watched as one of the contraptions keeping the boys in place went swinging up, and right in the area which wasn’t the pleasant to feel a force against. You winced as Sam felt maximum pain in his lower region, worse than what he was used to feeling. His face turned red as he tried his hardest to brush off the pain like it was nothing. But the small grunts he let out as he folded over made you realize he’d gotten more than just a swift kick. You found your gaze lingering away from the poor man in pain, for the other woman dressed like you decided it would be a good time to lure the audience’s attention for a product placement. You took the chance to sneak over and see if Sam was all right.

“Sam,” You tried your hardest to bend down to his region, but with your outfit that barely covered anything. You only ended up standing straight and giving him a sympathetic expression, knowing he was still trying to brush off the last effects of the pain. “You okay there, buddy?”

“Peachy.” Sam managed to say between clenched teeth. You could see that he was beginning to get better when he turned his head slightly to look at you better from the corner of his eye. His face scrunched up in discomfort at what he noticed you wearing. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

“Shut up.” You muttered to him, trying your hardest to pull down your skirt to keep from any unwanted flashes coming out by accident. But it seemed you were about to have far worse problems. You looked over at the double doors that you had been previously standing next to when you heard banging coming from the other side. Rolling your eyes, you thought this was part of the game. “Now what?”

Yet it seemed you counted off a good friend of yours for a special guest appearance. As the doors slid open, you realized the day might have just been saved by the familiar Cas himself. He headed out to the stage, but he seemed unsure of what was going on here and the theatrics the host put on when he caught sight of the angel. “Is this another trick?” Sam whispered to you and Dean.

“It’s me.” Cas said, reassuring the younger man. He furrowed his brow at the sight of the boys, but it was another story for the expression on his face when he caught sight of you. Rolling your eyes, quickly put up your hand, not wanting to discuss this right now. All you wanted to do was go home and pretend this entire situation never happened. “Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Us?” You asked him with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” Cas answered. “You’ve been missing for days.”

“Get us the hell out of here, then.” Sam hissed at the angel, having had enough of this.

Cas didn’t need to be told twice. You watched as he took just a few steps forward giving you hope that all of you might get of here alive, but just like that, he quickly disappeared from your sight. “No, no, no, no.” The host stepped away from the other woman as he slowly shook his head and began walking forward to the three of you. “Mr. Trickster does not like pretty boy angels.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure Mr. Trickster wouldn’t like my foot up his ass.” You muttered underneath your breath, mocking the man.

The host laughed off your threat as he pulled out his index cards again from his suit jacket, deciding it was time to continue on with the game. He spoke a few words in japanese again that you couldn’t understand before going to another question. “Dean Winchester…” The man looked a little bit frightened when it was his turn to play. And it didn’t help that the host was still speaking in a foreign language he barely understood. “Would your mother and still be alive if your brother was never born? Countdown!”

“What do I do? What do I do, Y/N?” Dean questioned you with a panicked tone. You gave him a very baffled look as you shrugged your shoulders. In all honesty, you had no idea what was going on anymore. “I don’t want to get hit in the nuts.”

“I know, uh, uh….” Sam came to his brother’s rescue, but the slight pause as he tried to figure out the right answer wasn’t a good move when you notice the clock was ticking down, and fast. When you hissed the man’s name, he finally spoke again. “I played a doctor. In–In 'Dr. Sexy.’ I played a doctor. I operated. So, I played the role the trickster wanted me to play. M-maybe we just have to go along with it.” Dean looked at his brother, not sure what he meant by that. “With the game. I mean, we’re on a game show, right? So, just answer the question.”

“In japanese? I don’t know japanese!” Dean hissed at his little brother, the only remark he’d gotten back when you looked at the clock was for him to try. You felt your body stiffen when you noticed the clock strike back down to zero, but instead of hearing the alarm, Dean moved quickly, hitting the red button right in front of him. The entire room fell silent, and as the man wasn’t sure how this would work, he opened his mouth and spoke—all in fluent japanese. “The answer is….yes?”

The entire place fell into an eerie silence. You were worried at how hard it was to read the host, his expression was serious, making you wonder if Dean had accidentally gotten the answer wrong. But you found yourself letting out a heavy sigh of relief at the news you heard next. “Dean Winchester–'Nutcracker’ champion!”

“So that’s it.” You forced yourself to smile even more and began clapping in the direction of the crowd of faceless shadows as the host demonstrated for you to do so after he dramatically threw his cards up in the air. “We play our roles, we survive.”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, but he found a slight flaw in your thinking. The trickster said that all of you would win this game if all of you survived for twenty four hours. But according to Cas, it’d already been a few days. “Play our roles for how long?”

You forced your smile to grow wider at the thought, “Good question,”

\+ + +

The change of scenery was quite different from the last position you were thrown into. You were outside on a sunny morning with your view of the lake and you were standing barefoot on a dock. While you were in more comfortable clothing this time in yoga pants and a tank top, you tried your hardest not to let the discomfort of this little commercial the trickster decided to throw in for giggles. You inhaled a deep breath as you balanced yourself enough to outstretch your left leg and position your right arm out in front of you to create the perfect pose. Looking straight ahead, you tried your hardest to make yourself say the four words, despite how uncomfortable it made you feel. Your lips stretched into a tight smile, and between clenched teeth, you forced yourself to say it.

“I’ve got genital herpes.” You announced to nobody there.

An older man sat in his living room with his wife beside him, both of them shared a small smile before announcing a little secret that he’d been keeping from the world. “I have genital herpes.”

Sam and Dean were off playing a round of basketball somewhere else with a few other guys they’ve never seen before in their life. But the younger Winchester played along, he easily got himself a shot as he watched the ball go into the hoop before it dropped to the pavement. Letting it bounce over to another player, Sam turned around in his spot, and while he knew what to say, the man wouldn’t do it. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. You’re the one who opened your big, fat mouth and told us to play our roles.” You hissed at him from your position on the dock. “Say it or I’m gonna kick you in your balls again.”

“Okay, okay.” Sam mumbled, throwing his hands up in a defensive position for a split second before they settled back down to his hips. He didn’t want to go through the excruciating pain again, and knowing your temper, you would stay true to your threats. He let out a sigh, and after spending a few moments silent, he got himself to say the words. “I’ve got genital herpes.”

'This is so stupid.“ You muttered underneath your breath. Now you were sitting down on the ground with your legs crossed over one another and your hands in a praying position against your chest. Still, you played along, saying your next line. "I tried to be responsible.”

The old man glanced over at his wife, she gave him a look, almost like she was pissed at him, but she gave him a tight smile. Maybe he cheated on her with a younger woman, that’s why he got an STD, for being an irresponsible dirty old man. “Did I try.” He admitted.

“Now I take twice-daily Herpexia to reduce my chances of passing it on.” Sam said, making himself continue on, despite the embarrassment he was feeling at this very moment.

You changed your position again, now this time, you were standing with the sunlight hitting the water, making just the right shadow across your body as you outstretched your arms. Rolling your eyes, you made sure to give the proper advice to anybody watching this. “Ask your doctor about using Herpexia.”

“Patients should always consult with a physician before Herpexia. Possible side effects include headache, diarrhea, permanent erectile dysfunction, and thoughts of suicide.“ 

"I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the spread of—of…genital herpes.” Sam forced out his last line for this stupid commercial. But he began to realize that pulling all his teeth out would seem less painful than what he was being put through. “And that’s a good thing.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief when he said his final line, and with that, he turned away from whoever he was supposed to be talking to and headed back to the game with his brother. You, however, still found yourself stranded on the dock as you now sat on the ground with your legs stretched out. All though you couldn’t see where he could be, for added measure, you reached up and gave the trickster a middle finger and mouthed a not so nice word directed at him. And for that, he decided to turn up the torture just a few notches, just to teach you a little lesson on how much control he really had over all of you.

\+ + +

“Son of a bitch!”

“You can say that again.”

You’d been on a medical drama, played for a chance not to get hit in the balls, and you advertised for a medication that would help keep someone’s genital herpes in check. You though the trickster was done having his fun of making all of you feel ridiculous. But he was just getting started. He wanted to see how much he could push on your very thin nerves before you would snap in half. He decided the next adventure would be something a bit more lighthearted to cheer all of you up. Yet it was doing the complete opposite for you. From the looks of the brightly lit room with its vibrant colors and manic laugh track, you and the boys were staring in your own sitcom, cringe-inducing opening credits included.

You’ve been here for less than a few minutes and you could tell from the shenanigans that he was making all of you play out was to make it seem like you were in one of those cheesy half an hour shows that aired in the late nineties. It was those sitcoms where people tuned in to see what kind of problem the characters would face that would be neatly wrapped up in thirty minutes. Sometimes they could be silly, other times it taught everyone a valuable lesson about heavy topics they liked to approach with an after school special feel. You stood in the bathroom doorway with your cheeks beginning to blossom a tint of red when you realized what you were wearing. And you wondered why, yet again, of you were being degraded.

“What the hell does a girl have to do around here to get some pants?” Your question wasn’t meant to be funny as you asked between clenched teeth. But the anger was dismissed by your cheery smile as you slowly looked around the room, wondering where that laugh was coming from. It seemed to have come from out of thin air, because you and the boys were the only ones here. Someone had to be watching you without your knowledge because they sure found everything you said and did quite hilarious, even when it and wasn’t supposed to be. You could feel your smile falter as you looked over at the boys, who were standing across the room, looking uneasy as you were. “How long do we have to keep doing this?”

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted with a nervous smile. He stepped away from the door he’d arrived in as he looked over to his right, wondering if the audience that was supposed to be watching you would start laughing. You felt like somebody was watching your every single move with a hawkeye, waiting for just that little slip up to send you into a show that would be a thousand times worse than this. If you were the trickster, you had a few ideas to make things get worse. But it seemed all of you were playing your roles exactly how the audience liked. You furrowed your brow slightly when you began to just walk across the room to where the boys were, which caused a quiet round of applause and a few cheers before it quietly died down. “Maybe forever? We might die in here.”

The audience seemed to have found the idea of slowly rotting away into a fictional world with no escape hilarious from the sound of a roar of laughter. You didn’t know if you should start forcing yourself to smile to keep them happy, but it seemed that Dean wasn’t in the mood to play nice anymore. “How is that funny?” He asked the room, almost as if he was going to get a response from the obvious silence that followed after. “Vultures.”

Despite everything you and the boys coming off as funny, there was still one element in your sitcom that was missing in order to be successful. The comic relief, of course. You needed someone who was awkward and acted naturally clueless of what a human being should do to act normal. And you had the perfect angle friend for that role. Without a warning, the motel door swung open, and came in Cas with a bit of a stumble. He looked like he had put up one hell of a fight with whatever the trickster tried putting in his way from the bruises around his eye and bloody nose. But it was no match for the angel. You furrowed your brow in concern from how he looked, yet it seemed he was rather more confused at what you were wearing than himself.

“You look cold.” Cas pointed a finger at your outfit, seeming to think the idea of your wardrobe choice was most important to start the conversation with. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the audience, of course, burst out laughing from the hilarious remark. Cas furrowed his brow in confusion as he cautiously looked around the room from the noise that appeared out of nowhere. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. But it’s freaking me and I want to get out here.” You whispered to him, thinking if you kept your voice down they could hear. But you could hear a few chuckles that were quiet as your voice. “You okay, Cas? Looks like you came out from an MMA fight.”

“I don’t have much time. I got out.” Cas said. You didn’t give him much of a chance to explain himself as you jumped every chance to ask him what was going on. “Listen to me. Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be.”

“What thing—the trickster?” Dean asked, wondering if that was what the angel meant.

Cas looked uneasy from the title you’d been using on this creature, “If it is a trickster.”

You found the question what Cas meant by the assumption at the tip of your tongue, but before you could verbally speak it, the thought was thrown out of your mind just as Cas was tossed across the room. He landed roughly against the wall before tumbling to the ground. The audience let out respectable gasp in surprise, seeming to be taken back at the spike in violence against the angel just as you were. Before either one of you could help Cas, it seemed all of you had a special guest, and it was a face you wanted to do terrible things to that wouldn’t have been allowed on basic cable. Your lips stretched into a snarling frown when you watched as the trickster popped into the motel room to make his grand entrance with a toothy grin. The audience seemed to have loved him the most, cheering and applauding for him, you only rolled your eyes as he thanked the invisible crowd.

“Thank you. Thank you. You’re too kind.” The trickster ate up the attention like it was candy. Cas might have taken the opportunity to stand up back on his feet, but before he could say anything, he was silenced by the duct tape on his mouth. You looked over the trickster, and from the look on his face, it was almost as if he was reunited with a good friend. And his greeting to the man made you feel like something was off here. “Hi there, Castiel.”

You brow tightened in confusion from what was going on here. Cas had never met the trickster until today, and you doubt the angel was for friendly greetings from the creature that was attempting to drive all of you insane, or kill you. Slowly, you were wondering if Cas was right about the trickster not being who he said he was. “How do you know him?”

“Where did just send him?” Dean’s question overshadowed yours.

“Relax. He’ll live.” The trickster brushed off the hunter’s threatening tone with a nonchalant one of his own. Neither you or the boys fell for the promise when you glared at him, but it seemed he wasn’t the least bit scared. “Maybe.”

"That’s it, I’m done! I’m done with your stupid games and whatever monkey dance you’re putting us through.” You found yourself snapping much quicker than you had anticipated. But you were honestly at your breaking point. You avoided any chances of being held back by the brothers as you made your way forward to the trickster. He had your fun, now it was your turn. “We get it, okay? Send us back home, now. Or else.”

“Or else, what?” The trickster asked, seeming only amusing at your attempts of acting brave. He arched a brow up as his lips stretched into a smirk when he knew damn well he was getting you all wound up. You narrowed your eyes on him with a threatening gaze as his eyes was lingering somewhere it shouldn’t be. it only lasted a moment before he was making eye contact with you again. “This whole ‘I am woman’ persona…it’s a good look on you, sugar.”

“Watch it, buddy. You’re going down a slippery slope of me punching your heart out.” Dean hissed at the other man. You didn’t realize he was standing behind you until you felt his hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him so he could take a crack at the trickster. There was a lot of things Dean could handle, but know it was turning personal for him, and he was getting tired of being treated like a puppet. “Y/N’s right. We get whatever stupid lesson you’re trying to make. I’m done with this monkey dance.”

“Yeah?” The trickster asked. “Get what, hotshot?”

“Playing our roles, right?” Dean questioned the other man. “That’s your game?”

“That’s half the game.”

“What’s the other half?”

“Playing your roles out there.” The trickster said in a showy voice as he wiggled his fingers in the air for added effect. You narrowed your eyes on the man, asking him what he meant by that. “You know—Sam, starring as Lucifer. Dean, starring as Michael. Your celebrity deathmatch. Play your roles.”

“You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” Sam asked, you could hear the disbelief in his tone from what he was hearing.

The trickster was nothing but serious as he grinned, “Hells, yeah. Let’s light this candle!”

“We do that, the world will end.” You said with a hardening tone, wanting to make it clear of what trouble he was starting. “Or does your brain not comprehend the consequences? Cockroaches like you won’t survive the nuclear war. Unless—”

"Last time I checked, you don’t have any speaking roles in the script, Y/N. Dumb and dumber get to have all the big action scenes. I mean, who broke the first seal? Who popped Lucifer out of the box, again?” The trickster cut you off, keeping your assumptions to yourself for a few moments longer. You crossed your arms over your chest, knowing there was something going on here that you didn’t realize without Cas’ help. “Look, it’s started. You started it. It can’t be stopped. So let’s get it over with.”

“Heaven or Hell—which side are you on?” Dean asked a simple question, wondering if the trickster was all about his virtues. He did only go after people who deserved it. But he also had a thing for overindulging in the sweeter things in life, and everyone had vices. Nobody was without sin. The trickster laughed off the presumption by saying that he wasn’t siding with either one. “Yeah, right. You’re grabbing ankle for Michael and Lucifer. Which one is it?”

The trickster chuckled underneath his breath as he took a step forward to the man. While he might have been just a few inches shorter, size wasn’t a factor about showing who had more power here. It was all about how you carried yourself that mattered. “You listen here, you arrogant dick. I don’t work for either one of those S.O.B.’s, believe me.”

Dean always liked a little competition, and in true male fashion, he decided to hit below the belt at making a side remark. “Hmm. Oh, so you’re somebody’s bitch.”

It might have been a funny at first, but the joke only lasted so long. The trickster retaliated by grabbing Dean and roughly turning him around in his spot before throwing him against the door. Your first instinct was to show the man all of the pent up rage you’d been building up during this entire adventure. While you wanted nothing more than to kill him right here, Sam knew it wasn’t a good idea to poke the bear. He reached out a hand to pull you back into reality before you could make things even worse. You exhaled a sharp breath and stared straight at the trickster.

“Don’t you ever, ever presume to know what I am.” He told the older Winchester with a dead serious tone, wanting to make his point clear. Dean could tell he had touched a very sensitive nerve in him. You narrowed your eyes slightly when you stared at the trickster. “Now, listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. Y/N, you’re gonna swallow your pride and face the facts—you’ve already contributed to this big family affair. Stand there and look pretty. That’s your big role. There’s nothing you can do to change fate. And as for you two knuckleheads. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play your roles destiny has chosen for you.”

“And if we don’t?” You asked him.

"Then you’ll stay here in TV land…forever.” The trickster answered for you. “Three hundred channels and, uh, nothing’s on.”

And with the snap of his fingers, you and the boys were off to your next TV show.

\+ + +

You found yourself in the middle of a park in the middle of the night, but with people surrounding the entire area dressed in police uniforms and flashes coming from cameras, it seemed you had landed yourself right in the middle of an active crime scene. You had a bit of a hard time seeing in the dark with the sunglasses you found yourself wearing. But you were nevertheless happy when you glanced down at your outfit; it was a black pant suit with a dark blue button up. But it was hard to see much of anything with the sunglasses that you were wearing, for whatever reason why. You looked over at the boys, only to make the horrifying discovery that all of you were wearing the exact same outfit. You found yourself cringing at what was going on here, and how ridiculous you felt. Without an ounce of hesitance, you dropped the sunglasses to the ground. You lifted up your foot, and by using your heel of your shoe, you brought all your body weight down and crushed the lenses.

“Nope.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Not doing this.”

“So,” You looked up to see one of the coroners had crossed the yellow police tape to greet all of you. His question was innocent enough, but you scoffed in annoyance. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” You repeated after him, wondering that was what he meant. When he nodded his head, you answered his question. “Go screw yourself, that’s what I think.”

“Uh, can you give us a sec, please?” Sam jumped into the conversation by giving the man an apologetic smile from the aggression you were tossing at him. You only threw your anger to the younger Winchester when he placed a hand on your shoulder to give you some advice. “You need to calm down, Y/N.”

“Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down. I’m wearing sunglasses at night. You know who does that? No-talent douche bags.” You hissed at him. “God, this is so stupid! I hate the trickster. And I hate this stupid, freaking game.”

“Tell me about it. Why couldn’t we land in something decent?” Dean complained. “I hate that we’re in a procedural cop show. And want to know why? Because I hate procedural cop shows! There’s like three hundred of them on television. They’re all the freaking’ same. It’s, 'Ooh,a plane crashed here. Oh, shut up!”

“No. They’re not all the same. Law and Order is pretty damn good—Special Victims Unit and Criminal Intent. Not to mention the original CSI. Also, you can’t say Criminal Minds is the same. I mean, they’re profilers, not…” You found yourself defending the cop shows. All though there had been a thousand of them out there, you had a few special ones that you secretly loved. Dean, however, was giving you a look from what you were rambling on about. “Oh you think Dr. Sexy is great. But I can’t like my cop shows that actually deal with serious topics—”

"Hey.” Sam cut off an argument before it could start. He brought you and his brother back into the reality of the situation you were currently dealing with. You looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was pointing at the man that had briefly talked to you. He was now back on the other side of the tape talking to a few forensic workers and a cop. What Sam noticed was the lollipop he was sucking on. “Check out sweet tooth over there.”

“Think that’s him?” You asked.

“Just, uh, follow my lead.” Sam said, seeming to have a plan already in action.

Sam slipped his sunglasses back on to complete the look as Dean hesitantly followed in the man’s actions, slipping the tacky accessory back on his face before walking for the crime scene. You stood in your spot for a few moments, watching as the boys played their ridiculous roles, adding all the dramatic effects of walking and making you roll your eyes at how terrible this was turning out. You pulled up the yellow police tape and followed behind, wanting nothing more than to be done with this mess. If the trickster wanted you to be playing a detective, you were just fine with that. With your extensive knowledge of cop shows and murder mysteries you loved to read, it would be fairly easy to solve this in just the matter of minutes. Lucky for you, the killer wasn’t that too far ahead of all of you.

“Uh,” The coroner pulled out the lollipop from his mouth as he furrowed his brow slightly, wondering why the boys had arrived in a rather slow fashion. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean replied with a gravelly tone. He turned his head to the side and placed his hands on the waistband of his slacks, giving the man a side-profile of his face. “What do we got?”

“You got anymore of those…” You pointed at what the man was holding in his hand, and at first he thought you were talking about his lollipop, but you were gesturing to the gloves he was wearing. You thanked him when he managed to fetch out a pair. Slipping them on, you decided to examine the dead body for yourself. In a way, you’ve always wanted to do something like this. You studied biology in school and the anonymity of the human body always interested you. Crouching down, you took notice of everything, coming up with a conclusion just a mere seconds later. “Well, aside from the ligature marks around his neck, he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat. You could say his killer left him…all choked up.”

“Well, I say…” Sam joined in on the terrible puns, making you roll your eyes. “Jackpot.”

“Hmm. Not bad.” The man said as he joined down to your level.

“I can’t let you boys have all the fun. And don’t let looks be deceiving. I’m much more than a pretty face.” You made a sly remark, but you didn’t dwindle on it for too long. You pointed your finger to the blood soaked spot on the victim’s shirt, Dean grabbed a stick that was nearby to lift up the wound to see there was a small slit in the shirt, indicating something had ripped the fabric. “There was a stab wound to the lower abdomen there.”

“Well, I say,” Dean pushed himself to his feet as you joined him just a few moments later. You snapped off your gloves as he slipped his sunglasses back on to deliver another tacky one-liner. “No guts, no glory.”

Sam followed in his brother’s actions, delivering another. “Get that guy a…tums.”

“Gutterball.” Dean said with a smooth delivery.

The coroner chuckled to himself, finding all of this funny as he was too distracted by skimming over the notes he’d been taking. You watched as Dean easily made his way over to the man, who was unsuspecting of the demise that he was about to put himself through. You watched as the boys surrounded the man, Dean was still holding the stick he’d grabbed from the ground, and without warning, he rammed it into the man’s stomach. Your lips stretched into a satisfied smirk as blood began pouring from the man’s wounds as Dean pulled out the stick to do the most damage. But the angle he’d penetrated, you knew for sure it was a clean stab wound to the heart. It was only a matter of moments before the man’s body dropped to the ground, dead after he choked on his own mood.

While it seemed like you might have caught the right guy, things weren’t always what they appeared. You could hear the sounds of someone laughing, breaking the silence that followed after. The trickster was here, after all, but he wasn’t the guy you were looking for. All of you had screwed up, yet again. “You got the wrong guy, idiot.” The trickster taunted Dean, chuckling to himself at the man’s failure.

“Did we?” You asked him. But you weren’t anywhere near in his sight. You were right behind him with a much bigger branch than Dean had used. Without a single warning, you jammed the branch into the trickster’s stomach, giving you the ending you’d been dreaming about for three years. You let out a breath as you watched his body drop to the ground, no sign of movement, except for the few twitches of his limbs before he stopped all together a few seconds later. “Don’t mess with the bull unless you want to get the horns.”

The trickster had pulled his final move. You stepped back when you watched in the blink of an eye as your surroundings turned from the crime scene in the park turned back into the warehouse you and the boys had originally been. To be safe, you glanced down at your clothes, a sigh of relief fell from your lips as you ran your hands down your jacket, suddenly overwhelmed with joy at being back in your own reality. You glanced down at the ground to make sure the lifeless body was surely dead. But…there was a small part of you that was just a bit hesitant to say this was over. Just like TV shows, the writers liked to pull a few more twists and turns. You had a feeling another one was coming your way if the dead wouldn’t stay dead.

\+ + +

The next morning came quickly after getting a restful night knowing one of the very few monsters that slipped away was dead once more. This time, for good. You had retired to your room soon after arriving back to the motel, saying something about how you needed some personal time to enjoy this much needed victory. It took much longer than you had wanted, but after three years and a few encounters, the trickster was nothing more than ash and bone after you burned his body for precaution. Dean had been up since his brother woke him about an hour ago after being a little too loud getting ready. Since this hunt was officially wrapped up, it was time to pack it all up and find another case. But there was something bothering Dean as he brushed his teeth at the bathroom sink. He tried calling Cas’ phone to see if he was all right, yet all he gotten was the very awkward voicemail you had helped the angel set up. Sure, Cas was a silent creature who liked to pop up whenever he felt it was necessary. Dean thought it wouldn’t have hurt for the angel to fly his feathery ass around here to let it be known he was just fine.

“I’m worried, man. What that S.O.B. did to Cas.” Dean tapped his toothbrush against the sink to get off any excess water before putting it back into the flimsy case. “You know, where is he?” He waited to hear his little brother’s response, but all he heard was silence. Dean tried calling out the man’s name to get his attention away from whatever it was, but all he gotten again was nothing. Furrowing his brow, he stepped out from the bathroom to see there was nobody in the room with him. “Sammy?”

Dean looked around the motel room to see if he could find his brother, but to his surprise, he was all alone. He thought that his little brother might have been in your room this morning, probably talking about research or something else the both of you liked to ramble on about. But when he checked on your room, things were only getting weirder when he realized you were gone, too. Dean kept himself level headed as he thought of a few different scenarios of why you and his brother were gone. Maybe you got breakfast without him. Dean tried calling your cell phone, but all he got was voicemail from the both of you. He left each of you a message in hope someone would pick up the damn phone.

Thinking he might know a few spots of where you or Sam could be, Dean headed for the parking lot where the Impala had been quietly waiting since last night. Slipping into the car by himself, he tried one more time to make a call. “Y/N, it’s me. Where the hell did you and Sam go? Call me back.” He shut his phone again, letting out a frustrated sigh as he reached into his pockets to put his phone away in exchange for his car keys. While he was about to get the Impala running, someone’s voice caught him off guard.

“Dean?”

It was his brother. The oldest Winchester found himself looking around in the car, wondering if he had been sitting in the backseat for some reason, but again, the man couldn’t find him anywhere. He sat back straight in his seat again. “Sam. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted. Dean slowly looked down at the dashboard clock to see the noise was coming right in front of him, but much lower than he was anticipating to see. His entire cassette player was gone, replaced by a machine that looked straight out of…a show that Dean could recall from the early eighties. Sam soon figured out about how he was talking as the red colors on the dashboard match the timing too perfectly. “Oh, crap. I don’t think we killed the trickster.”

“Ya think? Well, if you’re….this,” Dean gestured his hands around the interior of the Impala as he shifted around, slightly growing uncomfortable at the thought of what was happening here. “Then where the hell is Y/N?” Right when he asked the question, his cell phone went off. Dean fetched it from his pocket and stared at the screen for a moment, only to realize who was calling had been the exact same person he was talking about. “Y/N. You okay?”

“…Define okay.” Your voice came out crystal clear from the other line like nothing was wrong, but it only took a few moments before you realized what was happening to yourself. You said something, but you found yourself letting out what sounded like an involuntary giggle from feeling Dean’s breath hit the end of the receiver. “Dean, that tickle—Oh, crap.”

It seemed the three of you weren’t off the hook just yet, the trickster had an old move up his sleeve and one more show to live through. Dean might have remained human for this one, but it seemed Sam was in for a much needed makeover by being turned into the Impala. As for you, the trickster decided it would be funny to turn you into a literal object—Dean’s cell phone. "Okay, so stake didn’t work.” Dean sat at the wheel of the Impala like normal as he drove down the road with his cell phone, or you, on the dashboard with the volume on speaker so everyone could hear each other. “So, what? This another trick?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the stake didn’t work because it’s not a trickster.” You said, seeming to believe that your earlier encounters gave you a clue to who the trickster really was. Dean seemed interested in your theory, asking what you meant by that. “I mean, you heard Cas. He said this thing was too powerful to be a trickster.”

"Yeah,” Dean agreed with what you were saying, “And did you notice the way he looked at Cas? Almost like he knew him.”

“And how pissed he got when you brought up Michael and Lucifer.” Sam added.

“Guys,” Your voice took over the silence in the car, “I think I know what we’re dealing with.”

It took you a while to piece together all of the information until you figured out exactly what you were dealing with. Cas wasn’t your first angel you ever met. But you didn’t know his name just yet. All signs seemed to have been pointing to your theory. It would make sense of why he wanted you and Dean in Hell so badly, without that, the apocalypse wouldn’t be in full swing as Sam would be clean of the demon blood addiction. All of you headed to the woods for more of a private setting to make sure this was right. Even still being thrown into another TV show, civilians might frown upon what they would assume as some satanic ritual. Dean parked the Impala and headed for the trunk to find the right supplies needed, while he thought it was completely fine, his brother didn’t.

“Dean?” Sam spoke up from inside the Impala, his brother annoying called out what, wondering what the man wanted. “That, um, feels really uncomfortable.”

The older Winchester rolled his eyes and slammed the trunk shut, causing his little brother to let out a noise from the pain. While both of them were unsure if this was going to work, you reassured them that this would work. Dean headed for the front of the Impala and looked around at the empty sight of trees and miles of a dusty road with nobody in sight. Not yet, at least. “All right, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs, using an attempt at praying that he had learned was quite useful over the past few years of dealing with angels. You had to stand in the middle of nowhere and shout on the top of your lungs, while Dean felt like an idiot, he always got results. “We’ll do it!”

“Should I honk?” Sam asked, Dean rolled his eyes.

It took a few moments for someone to appear, but just like you had predicted, a very familiar face had come out from the woodwork. While one step was done, there was still another that needed to be tested for your presumption to be right. “Sam, get a load of the rims on you.” The trickster complimented the younger man as he took a few steps forward to the Impala. Sam, of course, responded with a snarky command. “Okay, boys, ready to go quietly?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast.” Dean stopped the trickster from doing anything..” Nobody’s going anywhere until Sam and Y/N have opposable thumbs.”

“What’s the difference? Satan’s gonna ride his ass one way or another.” The trickster thought he was being funny, but it only caused Dean to look at the man with a threatening glare. He pulled a lot of stunts over the past several days that reprocessed consequences. But the trickster rolled his eyes, deciding to play along this time, and with the snap of his fingers, everything returned normal once more. The driver’s side door was pushed open fas your feet swung out, Sam followed suit in your actions not a second later. You and Sam were back to your normal selves, human, and dressed in the attire you had picked out this morning. The both of you walked over to where Dean was standing, leaving a few feet as a distance from the trickster. “Happy?”

“Mmm. Not yet.” You said, knowing there was one thing that you had been itching to do since you first got here in TV hell, along with the stunts he pulled over the past few years. Taking a step forward to him, you gave no warning when you quickly swung your arm up and gave a punch that was directly aimed at the trickster’s face. Pain settled in not even a second later when you did the damage, you tried brushing it off as you waved your bruising hand slightly. But you seemed satisfied enough to see that the man standing in front of you had a bleeding lip. “Now I am.”

“She’s beauty, she’s grace,” Dean muttered underneath his breath with a smirk as he watched the trickster reach up a hand to wipe away the spec of blood from his bottom lip. “She’ll punch you in the face.”

“Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from.” You reassured the trickster as you wiggled around your fingers, happy to know that nothing was broken. “Now, tell me one thing. Why didn’t the stake kill you?”

“I am the trickster.” He said, trying to think if that the same excuse you’d been hearing was going to pass yet again.

“But maybe you’re not.” You said, calling out his bluff for the last time. Sam reached inside his pocket and pulled out a lighter, by flicking only once, he dropped it to the ground and let the holy oil that Cas had used previously to trap Raphael, a very pissed off archangel that you didn’t want to think about right now. Besides, you had another one right in your grip, you watched as the ring of tire imprisoned what you were going to be calling the trickster one last time. “Maybe you’ve always been an angel.”

“An angel?” The trickster laughed off your accusation, deflecting from it with a joke, like you were the crazy one for thinking he could be that powerful. And if there was such thing as one. “Somebody slip a mickey in your coffee, sugar?”

"I’ll tell you what. You jump out of the holy fire, we’ll call it our mistake.” You made a deal with him, wondering if he was going to prove you all of you wrong. But all you had gotten was silence as he began smiling, still thinking this was a joke. “Doesn’t feel good now that you’re cornered, sugar?”

The laughing only presumed for another few seconds, all before his face turned into a dead serious stare. In the blink of an eye, you were back at the warehouse where you and the boys started, back into your own reality. And he was still there, trapped in the holy fire. "Well played, Y/N. Well played. I always knew you were the brains of this little gang.” You raised your brow when he gave you a round of applause for connecting the dots. “Where’d you get the holy oil?”

“Oh, you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass.” Dean couldn’t help himself but say, deciding to be literal in the sense. You tried your hardest not to smile as Sam glanced over at his brother, not all at amused at his brother’s remark.

The angel threw his hands up in defeat, deciding he couldn’t deny his true self anymore. “Where did I screw up?”

“You didn’t.” Sam said. “But nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did.”

“Mostly, it was the way you talked about armageddon.” You said, having a bit of deja vu yourself of how a topic could make someone so angry. All of you had lost your temper when dealing with the stresses of this new challenge, and it was only fair when you played a crucial role in the mix. It only roused your suspicion that he could be, too. But it seemed the angel didn’t have a clue of what you were talking about from the curious look he was giving you. “Well, call it personal experience. Nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.”

“So, which one are you?” Sam asked, wanting to put a real name to a face. “Grumpy, Sneezy or Douchey?”

He was hesitant to give you all his true name, but considering he couldn’t run anymore, you knew he had no more options but to wrap himself back into his family’s drama that he’d been trying to avoid for much longer than the three of you have been alive. “Gabriel. They call me Gabriel.”

“Wait. You’re telling us you’re the archangel, Gabriel?” You found yourself being thrown through a loop at seeing another one of them in the flesh. After dealing with Raphael and having Lucifer play mind tricks with you over the past several months, the next one that would have come out of the shadows would have been Michael to set all of you straight. But it seemed you had the pleasure of meeting their brother on several occasions without even realizing. “Aren’t you supposed to be Heaven’s messenger boy? The famous angel also who told the Virgin Mary she was expecting?”

“I’m impressed, Y/N.” Gabriel seemed that he felt comfortable keeping his old persona up once left time to make a joke, your lips stretched into a slight frown at how he was trying to deflect from the conversation. “I thought someone like you would burn to a crisp if you tried touching the bible.”

“Well, I’m just full of surprises.” You said with a growing smile as you crossed your arms over your chest, not letting his remarks against what you were bother you. “So, tell me this. How does an archangel become a trickster?”

“Call it my own private witness protection program.” Gabriel answered you, all though it didn’t provide much information of how he became. You raised a brow, making him further explain himself to the three of you. “I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, carved out my own little corner out of the world…till you and your two muscle heads screwed it up.”

“And what did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?” Dean asked.

“Daddy doesn’t say anything about anything.” Gabriel responded with a bit of snark in his tone.

“Then what happened?” Sam asked. “Why’d you ditch?”

“Well, do you blame him?” Dean glanced over at his little brother, thinking he had the wiggle room into trying himself at making remarks at the archangel. “I mean, his brothers are heavyweight douche-nozzles.”

“Shut your cake hole. You don’t know anything about my family.” Gabriel snapped at the older Winchester, making it seem you hit a very sensitive nerve in the angel from his response. “I loved my father, my brothers—loved them. But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other’s throats? I couldn’t bear it, okay?! So I left. And now it’s happening all over again.”

“Then help us stop it.” You said with a hardening tone.

Gabriel looked over at you, and slowly, you could see the ends of his lips stretched into a small smile. He stared at you with the type of expression that seemed half amused at your attempts of still trying to believe, all while, there was nothing but defeat in your future. “It can’t be stopped.”

“You want to see the end of the world?” Dean questioned the angel.

“I want it to be over! I have to sit back and watch my brothers kill each other, thanks to you two! Heaven, Hell—I don’t care who wins!” Gabriel argued with the three of you, trying to show his pent up rage at what was going on here and how useless he was. But all he was sounding to you was a small child having a temper tantrum. “I just want it to be over!”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be like that.” Sam said, trying to reason with him once more. “There has to be some way to—to pull the plug.”

Gabriel responded with a laugh as he shook his head at how the three of you were still choosing to remain ignorant on this subject he knew too well about. “Oh, you do not know my family. Why you guys call the apocalypse I used to call Sunday dinner. That’s why there’s no stopping this—because this isn’t about war. It’s about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You think you’d be able to relate.”

He presumed the dots would start connecting in the boys’ brains, but all he was greeted with was a few very confused looks. You were the only one who had gotten the too obvious of a similar pattern.Gabriel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and let out a low whistle. “You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael—the big brother, loyal to an absent father.” It was too obvious of a description about Dean, but Sammy wasn’t that far along the trail to follow in his brother’s footsteps. “And Lucifer—the little brother, rebellious of Daddy’s plan. You were born to this, boys. It’s your destiny! It was always you! As it is in Heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other.”

Dean remained silent for a moment, and like his brother, chose to remain ignorant on the very black and white situation he had been hearing over from too many people. “And what exactly are you saying?”

"Why do you think I’ve always taken an interest in you three? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you.” Gabriel said, laying down the truth nobody had been wanting to hear. “We knew Lucifer wasn’t gonna listen when Dad gave him a way out. He was too stubborn. He always liked to do things his own way. That’s why he had to go the long way to get himself free and got everyone tangled into this mess. It’s always been about you three. Always.”

Maybe it was a bit selfish of you to pretend at what you were hearing had been some lie that people were telling you to mess with your head. Over your past several years it’s been like that. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between the truth and a lie. And all though you knew that what Gabriel was saying had to be the truth, you still remained stubborn at changing your mind. “No,” You shook your head. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But it is.” Gabriel was trying to be nice, but you weren’t falling for it anymore. You narrowed your eyes slightly on him and continued to remain guarded. The both of you haven’t had the best forming relationship over the past few years. He’d made your life a living hell, you tried to kill him a handful of times. Here he was showing you his true self and trying to be a friend, but you wouldn’t listen to a word he was saying. “Guys, I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it’s gonna end bloody for all of us. That’s just how it’s got to be.” Your continued response was silence as the boys shared an uneasy stare to one another. All of you were sinking down the rabbit hole of the realization that this fight wasn’t going to end in a victorious win like before. “So, guys…now what? Stare at each other for the rest of eternity?”

“Well, first of all, you’re gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” Dean said, switching the conversation to more important matters. Gabriel seemed only amused at the command, thinking he still had power here over the three of you. All though you might not know how to kill an angel just yet, you knew very well they could bleed like everything else. “Or we’re gonna dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.”

Gabriel didn’t seem happy at the threat, but from the looks on your faces, there was no denying all of you would keep to your promise. You watched as he lifted his arm, and with the snap of his fingers, Cas reappeared right behind you. You looked over your shoulder slightly to see that the angel was back, he was still a little bruised, but he was alive. “Cas, you okay?” You asked him with concern, knowing his appearance raised a few red flags for you.

“How precious. A half demon and an angel looking out for each other.” Gabriel commented at the sight he was seeing, and his smile of amusement only seemed to grow when you looked over at him with a glare when she still continued talking. “It wasn’t that long you two were the talk of the town, always fighting like cats and dogs. But I guess being in the presence of my little brother’s little mutt has that tendency of making even the most loyal angels go rouge.”

“Wow, I haven’t heard that insult before. I’m truly hurt.” You said to the archangel, pretending to be offended as you placed your hands against your chest. “At least I’m not a spineless coward who runs away from his family when things get a little too much for him to handle.”

“Ouch. We got a feisty one here. I always like a girl with a mouth on her. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Dean-o. And by the way, how’s the search for Daddy going, boys?” Gabriel curiously asked. The silence and avoided eye contact was enough to know that all of you weren’t getting far as you wanted. God was out there, but he didn’t want to be disturb with his children’s problem. He wasn’t been here since he put all of you in this miserable situation. “Let me guess. Awful.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a quiet chuckle, only the slightest bit amused at the remarks. While this had been fun of seeing who Gabriel really was, you had more important things to do, like an apocalypse to stop and a Devil to kill. “Okay, we’re out of here.” You said as you began taking a few steps back. “Let’s go, boys.”

You turned around in your spot and headed for the entrance first, wanting out of here more than anything. All though you might have met another archangel with a bit of history, he was the same, wanting nothing but the same results as everyone else. “Okay. Hey, guys? So—So, what? Huh?” Gabriel called out to the four of you, expecting help from the position you were leaving him in with the fire still burning. “You’re just gonn—You’re gonna leave me here forever?”

“Oh, what? You’re telling me you don’t like being trapped? Don’t worry, we won’t. 'Cause we don’t screw with people the way you do.” You called out to the archangel, now standing at the doorway, you had to shout for him to hear you. “And by the way…this isn’t about some prizefight between your brothers or some destinity that can’t be stopped! This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family! Suck it up, buttercup and grow a pair!” You let out a breath when you found yourself becoming overwhelmed with anger at how he was reacting. But you were going to keep your promise at setting him free. You saw there was a fire alarm, and by simply breaking the glass, you reached up and switched down the lever for the sprinklers above to switch on, putting out the fire. "Don’t say I never did anything for you. I mean, I might be half a demon, but I’m still human.”

You gave Gabriel a friendly smile and a wave before you were out the door, not caring for the glare that was starting to stretch across his face at getting soaked to the bone, or maybe it was repeating calling him a coward. Either way, you didn’t care. You headed out of the warehouse and to the beloved Impala that was parked exactly where you had left it when you arrived. No time seemed to have passed in the real world after being away in the hell that you were thrown into. The boys followed behind as Cas quietly trailed, seeming a bit unsure of how he should handle leaving one of his own brothers behind. Dean fetched out his keys from his pocket as Sam headed for the passenger side of the car. While you wanted to forget everything that happened, Sam was being a thinker, like how he always was after rough hunts.

“All that stuff he was spouting in there—you think he was telling the truth?” Sam asked.

“I think he believes it.” Dean said, heading for the driver’s side. He started getting the key into the lock, but he stopped himself, knowing all of you were still back at square one. You didn’t have the colt, God was still nowhere to be found, and the only archangel that could have been of service hated your guts all while trying to avoid getting his hands dirty. Things weren’t looking all that good, but you refused to give up hope for a happy ending. “I’ll tell you one thing. Right about now, I wish I was back on a TV show.”

Sam chuckled at the thought of being thrown back into the torture, but despite that, he agreed with his older brother. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“Why? TV shows aren’t that great. Characters are killed off all the time, crappy writing…Well, come to think of it. Maybe our lives are like a TV show.“ You remarked, raising your brow slightly. The boys chuckled slightly as all of you slipped inside the Impala, Cas disappeared from your sight not long after departing from the building himself. "Who knows. Maybe Chuck can write us a happy ending. We do have those 'Supernatural’ books at our disposal.”

“I don’t even wanna think about them.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. “Now that gives me nightmares.”

You and the boys had very interesting lives, there was no denying that. Both of the brothers sharing a destiny to be vessels for a pair of archangels as you were born out of a plan for Lucifer to try and understand humanity, only that had gotten completely wrong, resulting you to be born as a hybrid of half demon and half human. Yet, despite all of that, it wasn’t the weirdest thing you had come across in the past year. You had met a man named Chuck Shirley who was a prophet of the Lord, resulting in him having terrifyingly clear visions of you and the boys. And from there resulted in the book series he called “Supernatural.” Twenty-four books that detailed everything over the first three years of you hunting, all the way to the bloody end of you and Dean going to Hell.

All though you had been secretly reading them on your laptop after finding a PDF file of the works for free, you were thankful the books had stopped when they did. And it would be better if you never had to think about them ever again. Because unlike TV shows, books provided more of an insight to the characters were internally thinking, and you didn’t exactly want to know what was going through the boy's’ head last year. You knew it would only make things worse.


	9. The Real Ghostbusters.

It’d only been a couple of days since you wrapped up the hunt involving the trickster, only by a surprising turn of events, turned out to be an archangel who decided to ditch the gig and feathery wings for something more entertaining. You lured the boys into taking just one more day from hunting and the grueling search for the colt for a chance to just pretend the end of the world’s problems did exist for twenty fours hours. While you had everything planned out for a quiet night in with Dean after grabbing a late dinner, just the two of you, the plan was busted when Sam got a text right after you got back to the motel. Turns out, Chuck, the Prophet of the Lord, was in a bit of a bind. As if you thought angels and demons couldn’t be even more of a dick to your lives.

You tried getting a hold of Cas to see if he could pop his feathery ass to where Chuck was to see if he could find out what was going on when you and the boys took the grueling all nighter drive to make it to where he was after texting you his location. Of course, Cas must have forgotten to charge his phone, because all you had gotten was his voicemail. When you knew there wasn’t a chance you were going to get ahold of the angel, you had just hoped Chuck would be all right until you got there. It was about nine in the morning when you arrived at the Pineview Hotel and Dean parked the Impala into the first available spot he could find. You were a bit of a worrier when you had too much time on your hands. Your thoughts had come through with a thousand different scenarios of what could have been a problem.

Maybe demons torturing the poor man to find out answers about the apocalypse. Perhaps angels being their usual dickish selves and trying to pull some stunt to get things their own way. Or maybe Lucifer had stepped out from the shadows and started causing trouble for the fun of it. But all of the problems you had imagined in your head would have been far less painful from what you were about to step into.

Slamming the backseat door shut, you didn’t wait for the boys to follow behind as you began power walking to the front porch of the hotel after seeing a staircase between the branches of the bushes. You were at least happy to see Chuck himself in one piece as he mindlessly paced around on the pavement with an anxious expression on his face. You presumed it was him awaiting your arrival after you texted him back a short while ago about being only a few minutes away. Your lips stretched into a smile when he looked up from the ground after hearing your footsteps approach him as the boys were right behind you. Chuck responded with a confused expression, almost as if he wasn’t expecting to see you and the boys.

“Chuck. There you are.” You said with a sigh of relief. “What’s going on?”

“Uh, nothing.” Chuck looked at the three of you slowly as his brow slowly arched up, wondering why all of you were standing in front of him with a shortness of breath. You placed your hands on your hips as you gave him a concerned look, but Chuck still had no clue what was going on, or why you were here. “You know, just, um, I was kind of hanging’. What are you guys doing here?”

“You told us to come.” Dean said, slowly starting to sound pissed off from the man’s answer.

Chuck looked at the Older Winchester with a funny expression at the accusation as he let out a slight chuckle to keep the tension from breaking. He looked at the two men and shook his head slightly, knowing the angels and demon business had been pretty quiet since Cas had exploded in his kitchen. “Uh, no.” Chuck corrected the man. “I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did. You texted me—this address, ‘Life-or-death situation.’” Sam jumped into the conversation, knowing he had proof from the saved text message that came out of nowhere last night still in his jacket pocket. Chuck only continued to look at the three of you with a baffled expression, making the sleep deprived Winchesters just a little more aggravated thaN they wanted to be this morning. “Any of this ring a bell?”

“No, I-I-I didn’t send you a text. I’m sorry. I don’t understand what could—” Chuck apologized to you three about what was happening, but he swore up and down he had nothing to do with it. He fell silent for second as he tried to think if he could have accidentally drunk dialed them after getting here last night. It’d been a rough one for him, trying to prepare for the big day that was ahead for him, maybe he had subconsciously texted the Winchester to get him out of this mess. But Chuck was always a bit fearful of the boys, not only were they twice his size, they weren’t exactly the understand type. Maybe if he was drunk out of his mind and in need of support, Chuck would probably have texted you. Not that he had any resemblance of personal feelings, it was just that you were…less intimidating. But the thought of Sam being the one who was sent the text made him realize who the culprit was. “Oh, no.”

Before any of you could ask why Chuck suddenly looked guilty, a female squeal quickly made your head turn to the front porch of the hotel when you realized that was where the noise was coming from. Your mouth parted open slightly in when you saw who stood at the top of the staircase with a toothy grin on her face and a light beaming off of her at who she saw. She looked as if she had won the lottery, only better. “Sam! Y/N!” Becky shouted with joy as she raced down the steps, being careful not to lose her footing and fall flat on her face. All she needed was to look like a fool in front of her two favorite people in the whole world. She glanced over at Dean to see that he was standing next to his brother, and being polite, she acknowledged him with a nod and a small smile. But when she glanced over at you, her grin returned once more. “You guys made it!”

“Oh, uh…” Sam tried his hardest to put a name to a face as she stared at him with a smile, and constant eye contact, curiously awaiting what he was going to say next. During this line of work you had met so many different people, it was hard to keep track of who everyone was, unless they left a good enough of a first impression to keep a faithful memory in your head. How could Sam forget someone like her? Supernatural’s number one fan. And someone who clearly didn’t know what personal space was. “Becky, right?”

“Oh. You remembered. You’ve been thinking about me.” Becky breathed out with excitement from what was happening. You were watching this sight unfold with an amused expression, Dean rolled his eyes from the woman that had a few loose screws up in her head. Sam opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure how he could respond. Becky waved her hand and smiled, continuing to speak for the man, filling in her own presumptions from the time spent away from the man. “It’s okay. I can’t get you out of my head, either.”

“Um,” Chuck tried jumping into the conversation and leaned over slightly to ask Becky a question as she busied herself with greeting her guests he didn’t even realize she had invited. “Did you take my phone?”

“I just borrowed it from your pants.” Becky said, not seeming to notice what breech of privacy she had overstepped. Chuck let out a sigh of frustration as he mumbled her name in an aggravated tone. “What? They’re gonna want to see it.”

“See what?”

“Oh, my God. I love it when they talk at the same time!” Becky squealed when the boys had accidentally talked in sync with one another. The brothers gave one another a glare from how she responded, you forced yourself to give her a smile when she looked over at you, roping you into this trainwreck of a conversation. “You’re the luckiest girl in the world, Y/N. I wish I was like you.”

“No.” You let out a quiet chuckle from what Becky had said. “No, you really don’t.“

Becky stared at you with a look of disbelief from the words that came out from your mouth. But before she could list off all of the things that she had loved about you, a man stepped out onto the porch with a clipboard in his hands, directing everyone’s attention to him. "Hey, Chuck.” The man waved his arm up into the air, catching the writer’s gaze as he gave the man a supporting smile. “Come on, pal. It’s showtime.”

Chuck let out a nervous sigh from what he was getting himself into as Becky seemed to have been the only one who was grinning from ear to ear about this. She had sprung this idea onto him a few months ago to help boost up some good publicity again after receiving some unexpected news. All though he was trying to be a good friend, and a good writer to all of the people inside, he was starting to regret everything as Becky raced up the stairs and disappeared from sight. “I’m sorry, guys.” Chuck apologized to the three of you for the mess you were about to get yourselves into. “For everything.”

You and the boys exchanged a confused look from the warning you weren’t expecting from Chuck, but you followed behind him as the man unwillingly began walking walking to the hotel, curious to see what was causing him to be so glum. Not that he was a usual chipper person. You thanked the man holding the door open for you as you stepped into the hotel. At first things appeared to be normal as you scanned the lobby, there were a few people lingering around on the couches and chairs provided for them, everyone was having a good time from the quiet chatter and laughter that broke out every so often. Someone passed you with a beer in his hand, but he made a point of saluting to you and smiling at the oldest Winchester.

“Hey, Dean!” He seemed friendly enough, but what caught you off guard was how he knew the man by his first name. “Lookin’ good!”

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked him. 

“I’m Dean, too.” The man said with a matter of fact voice. You had to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself from letting out an involuntary laugh. He was a tad shorter than the Winchester, and a little bit more rounder around the edges, too. But he seemed to have gotten the man’s outfit right, all the way down to his leather jacket and necklace. “Duh.”

He walked away, shaking his head and laughing at the misconception going around here. Dean stared at you and his brother with a confused expression from what was going on, but things had only gotten strange when he saw someone dressed in a creepy costume come out from the corner. You looked over your shoulder to see someone was wearing a sack over their head with eye holes, not to mention the straw peeking out from their outfit. But the sight was terrifying enough to make you jump slightly in surprise. “Uh-oh. It’s Y/N and the boys. I’m in trouble now.” The scarecrow pretend to be terrified at who he saw before letting out a laugh. “Have fun, guys.”

The scarecrow waved his hook at you and tried to growl at you, but with a threatening glare, he was off laughing to himself. You inhaled a breath and slowly looked around the room more, wondering what the hell was going on here. Everyone in the room wasn’t dressed in normal street clothes. You had a girl with bleeding eyes, a few clowns, not to mention a few people that looked almost creepily like the late Ash, not to mention Bobby. But you could see a sea of flannel. Flannel everywhere. It wasn’t enough for you to ignore the guy with black eyes as he stood behind a booth selling those stupid “Supernatural” books and what appeared to be coffee mugs of the Impala. You felt like you had stepped back into Hell from what was happening.

“Becky,” You looked over at the woman standing right in front of you and gave her a small smile, trying your hardest to remain calm as you asked her a question you didn’t want the answer to. “What is this?”

“It’s awesome!” She said with a cheery voice. “A 'Supernatural’ convention. The first ever.”

You took her words with a grain of salt, pretending what she had said was some sort of joke she was playing on you for fun. But as you took a closer inspection at the crowd, there was a creepy amount of familiar hair colored wigs that resembled your hair color and a few key pieces of your wardrobe that popped out from the sea of people. A majority of the crowd was guys dressed as the boys, but you could see a few females dressed as their own favorite character. You nervously swallowed as your hand subconsciously touched the pair of earrings you had put on yesterday, not realizing the attention it would bring from an unsuspecting bystander. 

"Those are so cool!” A female voice brought you out of your trance, causing you to blink at stare at the stranger with a confused expression from what she had said. The girl, who was dressed in something that looked like she had plucked it straight out of your duffel bag, was pointing at your earrings with a growing smile. She leaned in closer to inspect the design. “Just as I thought. Y/N’s present from the boys in 'A Very Supernatural Christmas.’ Oh my God, they’re amazing! You’re seriously gonna have to tell me how you made those earrings later.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, but you managed to slowly nod your head, trying not to be rude as she waved goodbye to you before joining off her group of friends, who so happened to look exactly like Sam and Dean. You found yourself biting your bottom lip again, but this time, in a nervous tick from what was slowly unraveling all at once.

\+ + +

You and the boys stepped away from the lobby as the crowd of people moved off to a different room with double doors. Becky ushered all of you into the place where there were lines of chairs around to fill the room, but only a handful of the rows were being used. You watched as the man who had gotten Chuck from the outside head up the small flight of stairs to the stage with his trusty clipboard in hand. With a friendly smile, he addressed the antsy crowd by tapping on the microphone a few times to capture their attention as the noise grew to silence so he could start the convention. 

“Welcome to the first annual 'Supernatural’ convention. At 3:45 in the Magnolia room, we have the panel 'Frightened Little Boy: The Secret Life of Dean.’ At 4:30, there the homoerotic subtext of 'Supernatural.’” The man read off the schedule that was given to him, seeming completely casual about the topics he was addressing. A few of them made your eyes widen slightly in discomfort from the topics that were being discussed, and how people dissected your lives to their own personal understanding. “And at 5:00 we have back to back panels. Y/N Y/L/N: Twenty First Century Feminist or Another Jess and Mary?’ Along with 'Are You a Sam Girl or a Dean Girl?’ That will be hosted by Becky Rosen.” Becky grinned as she waved at the few eyes which took the time to acknowledge her before the announcements continued on. “Oh, and of course, the big hunt starts at seven pm. sharp.”

Everyone had gotten excited at hearing the main event tonight, Becky tried cheering the loudest as she let out a few noises to show her enthusiasm. “Okay, but—but right now—right now I’d like to introduce the man himself.” The man managed to get the crowd silent one more time to introduce the real MVP of this convention. “The creator and writer of the 'Supernatural’ books, the one, the only…Carver Edlund!”

Another round of applause and hearty cheers broke out for the author when they readied themselves to meet the face of their favorite book series. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as Chuck nervously stepped out from behind the curtain and walked slowly the microphone stand, waving and forcing smiles as he acknowledged the over excited crowd. He nervously adjusted the microphone stand, which caused a bit of a squeal, all before it died down.

“Uh—oh. Uh, okay, good. This isn’t nearly awkward as I—" Chuck spoke slowly, stuttering at some parts before he found himself clearing his throat. “It’s a little dry mouth.” He excused himself by walking over to the stool where he found a cold water bottle for him. You watched as he twisted off the top, all before chugging the water bottle, taking sips as if he was a man who hadn’t drank in days. He swallowed what he could and hissed slightly from the freezing cold temperatures he wasn’t expecting. When he realized the crowd was still there, he gave everyone a small smile, deciding to do what seemed logical at this kind of thing. “So, I guess, uh…questions?”

Chuck didn’t realize almost all the hands in the crowd would have shot up at once, he took a moment to inspect the faces, and settled on someone that looked like a much skinnier and geekier version of Sam. "Hey, Mr. Edlund. Uh, big fan. Wow. Okay.” He seemed a bit nervous, talking to his favorite author as he chuckled before asking the big question every writer hears. “I was just wondering—where’d you come with Y/N and the boys in the first place?”

“Oh, uh, I uh…” Chuck knew there was a real reason why he had started this series, but when he subconsciously glanced over at the three of you, who had been standing in the way back. The boys were eyeing him with a threatening gaze, just waiting for one wrong word, while you curiously watched his every move. “It just…came to me.” The cliched answer to the age-old question, but it was enough to satisfy everyone in the room, and made everyone raise their hands in the air again. “Uh…Yeah, the, uh, hook man.”

“Uh, yeah. Why, in every fight scene, Sam and Dean are having their gun or knife knocked away by the bad guy? Why don’t they keep it on some kind of bungee?” Hook Man spoke with a heavy german accent, but he had brought an interesting suggestion. You glanced over at the boys with a smirk from the possible helpful suggestion. Chuck tried to somehow answer the question, but Hook Man wasn’t finished. “Yeah, follow-up—Why can’t Sam and Dean be telling that Ruby is evil? I mean, Y/N got the hint pretty early on. But she is clearly manipulating Sam into some kind of moral lapse. It’s obvious, nein?”

“Hey!” Becky shouted on the top of her lungs from the disrespect the younger Winchester was getting. You looked to see that she was already storming down the aisle, thirsty for blood. “If you don’t like the books, don’t read 'em, fritz!”

“Okay, okay, just, uh—uh, okay. It’s okay.” Chuck tried to defuse a possible argument as Hook Man slowly sank back down to his seat as Becky hovered over him with her hands on her hips, waiting for some kind of reaction. “So, uh, so, next question.”

Chuck scanned the crowed for a second before picking out a boy that was eagerly shaking his arm up, almost begging to be the next person, so he chose him. “Yeah, at the end of the last book, Dean and Y/N go to hell. So, what happens next?”

“Yeah, like does she end up with Dean?”

“No! It could have been with Sam…”

“…But Dean and Y/N shared a kiss”

“So? Sam and Y/N have the cutest nicknames for one another! ”

“And did you read 'Red Sky till Morning? Helloooo?”

“Are we excluding the idea of a possible polyamorous relationship between all of them?”

“Okay, okay.” Chuck managed to get the voices that were popping up one after another, discussing a possible romance arc that was slowly turning into an argument. You could feel a rosy tint appear on the apple of your cheeks from the chaos that was unfolding .“Oh, well, there lies an announcement, actually. Um…you’re all gonna find out. Uh, thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we’re gonna start publishing again.”

Chuck had gotten a standing ovation from the news he brought the fans, giving them much deserved answers for their favorite fictional characters. You, however, felt like life had thrown you another curveball you didn’t know how to deal with. If they thought the first twenty-four books were interesting, wait until they read about fun shenanigans like flashbacks of Hell, manipulation from people you trust and a demon blood addiction. Oh, yeah. And let’s not forget about the very real apocalypse that would make for a satisfying ending.

\+ + +

If you and the boys were pissed off at the false cry for help, you were boiling over with rage at the announcement Chuck had dropped out of nowhere. After the questions, Chuck had slipped from your sight, but that didn’t mean you were going to give up on finding the man. You scanned through the lobby area to see that he wasn’t there, only to find him in the dining and bar area with Becky. Both of them were quietly chatting amongst themselves as Chuck nervously was asking Becky about something. But before he could get the question out, Becky spotted her two favorite people approaching the table and broke out into a grin.

“Oh, hi, Sam!”

Chuck seemed a bit annoyed at the disruption and leaned back in his seat when Becky threw her attention the younger Winchester. You might have been here because of the disaster that you tried to stop unfolding again, but you found your curiosity being pulled into the direction of Chuck for a moment. You looked at the man with a raised brow, wondering he was a bit jealous of the attention Becky was showing the other man. Chuck, however, quickly looked away from you and nervously pretend that nothing had ever happened.

"In case you haven’t noticed, our plates are kind of full.” Dean let out his aggression on the man without warning, dragging Chuck’s attention to him. You watched as Becky looked over at the younger Winchester, giving him a bashful smile. “Okay? Finding the colt, hunting the Devil. We don’t have time for this crap!”

“Hey, I didn’t call you.” Chuck said, trying to defend himself.

“He means the books, Chuck.” You said. “Why are you publishing more?”

“Um,” Chuck pretended to think about the answer for a moment before telling you. “For food and shelter?”

Dean wasn’t the least sympathetic as he leaned down to the man’s level. He placed a hand on the table and looked at the man dead in the eye to ask, "Who gave you the rights to our life story?”

“Anarchangel.” Chuck answered. “And I didn’t want it.”

“Well, deal’s off, okay? No more books.” Sam said. “Our lives are not for public consumption.”

Before this conversation could go south, Chuck excused himself so all four of you could discuss this matter in private without spilling any information to an outsider like Becky. You followed behind the man as he lead you to an abandoned room just off the way, giving all of you some privacy. “Do you guys know what I do for a living?” Chuck asked a question that seemed like it would have been easy to answer, but for him, he felt like an outsider look in on his own life. “Then, could you tell me? 'Cause I don’t. All right, I’m not a good writer, I’ve got no marketable skills. I’m not some hero who can just hit the road and fight monsters, okay? Until the world ends, I got to live, all right? And the 'Supernatural’ books are all I’ve got. What else am I supposed to do?”

You and the boys were doing all you could to survive on the road, Chuck was doing the same to just deal with normal responsibilities you took for granted. But before you could and talk things out rationally with the man, your attention was pulled away when you heard a terrifying scream of a woman echo through hotel. Thinking that it was something serious, you and the boys went rushing off, wondering what it could have been. Chuck rolled his eyes and tried to warn you the disaster you were about to step into, but it was too late. You were already on the second floor and tending to the maid who had cried out for help. Sam helped her up from the ground and reassured her everything was going to be all right.

“What happened?” You asked her in a concerned tone.

“I saw a ghost.” She told you.

But it seemed you weren’t the only one who had heard the noise. You looked over your shoulder to see there was suddenly a handful of people coming up the stairs, one person trying awfully hard to look like Sam repeated the woman’s response. “Ma'am,” He pushed himself between the brothers as he approached the maid. “Could you tell us what it looked like?”

“Why don’t you leave this to the grown-ups, pal?” Dean muttered to the other man as he put a hand up to give some personal boundaries between the both of them. But it was beginning to grow harder with the crowd getting larger in numbers, forcing the dopplegangers to push together to hear what the maid had to say.

“A woman. She was in an old-fashioned dress. Really old. Like a schoolmarm or something.” She explained to all of you. Another imposter dressing up as Sam asked if the spirit had said anything, making the woman break out into a smile as she went deeper into her role. “Okay. Gather close, everybody, for a terrifying tale of terror! I saw a ghost. None other than the ghost of Leticia Gore herself! I was on the third floor when I…”

You and the boys stepped away from the maid as she told a tale that was nothing but fiction. As you huddled in the corner by yourself, you turned your head to see Becky had appeared from the crowd after elbowing her way through to join the three of you. “Ooh, the LARPing started.” Becky said, striking up a conversation as she looked eager to see where the night go. Dean looked a bit confused at what she said and asked her what it meant. “Live-action role-playing. It’s a game. The convention puts it on.”

Becky handed you a packet of papers that were neatly stapled together. You gave her a confused look, but she nodded her head, motioning for you to read it out loud. “'Dad’s Journal–Dean, Sam, Dean and Y/N, This hotel is haunted. You must hunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones. First team to do so wins a fifty dollar gift card to Sizzler.” You read out loud, taking a moment to process the information. You thought all of the events that were taking place had been nothing short of making you cringe and too weird for even you to handle, but you found yourself ever so curious about this own game. “So, what is this? Like a murder-mystery game?”

“You guys are so gonna win! After all,” Becky giggled to herself as she looked over at you with a smile. “You have Nancy Drew herself.”

You forced yourself to do the right thing by giving Becky a smile at her enthusiasm before you slipped away, watching this entire situation unfold right in front of your very eyes. It was sort of surreal to realize that there was fans of a book series that were based upon your real life. They knew what you had gone through when you hunted, and in some cases, personal memories from your childhood. To these people you were just some fictional character they could idolize and find a bit of themselves in to have a bit of fun for a few days. Nobody meant any harm by this, but you could feel a bit of hatred growing at Chuck and these strangers. Your life wasn’t fiction or who you were going to end up. It was more terrifying than seeing a person with makeup that made them look paler, and way too complicated for words to understand. If they knew what happened after you got back from hell, you wondered if they could look at Y/N and the boys in the same way.

You pushed the pessimistic attitude out of your brain and decided to see what the night would unfold, and how accurate this game would come out. You and the boys had followed a group of six people dressed in uniforms and fake badges to one of the hotel employees to interview him. “Why, yes, Agents Lennon and McCartney, as manager of this fine establishment, I can assure you that it is indeed haunted.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance as you crossed your arms over your chest, forcing yourself to listen more to what he had to say. “This building was once an orphanage run by mean, old Leticia Gore. One hundred years ago, on this very night, Miss. Gore went insane and butchered four little boys before killing herself. Now folks say that the souls of those poor, little boys are trapped here and that the evil spirit of Miss. Gore punishes them to this …very…day.”

"Well, I don’t know about you two,” You let out a sigh from everything that had been going on over the past few hours. “That’s just about all the community theatre I can take.

"Yeah,” Sam agreed with you on that. “This cannot get any weirder.”

“Dad said—he said I may have to kill you.” Oh, but it could. You furrowed your brow when you heard a male voice coming from across the room. You found yourself cringing at the sight of two guys try at their attempts of LARPing. From the conversation you overheard, they were doing the infamous scene when you had found out that John had wanted to see his youngest son dead, and you being born out of that pesky demon deal. But it seemed there wasn’t an Y/N of their own tagging along to help complete the scene.

“Kill me?” The one playing Sam asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” The other Dean answered.

You narrowed your eyes slightly and tried your hardest to make sense of what had just unfolded right in front of your very eyes. You turned around in your spot to look at the boys and suggest something all of you could agree with, “I need a drink.” But it seemed you had fallen for the trap when you and the boys had spoken in creepily perfect sync. 

“Woah.” You looked over to see someone and stopped and stared in awe at what all of you had did with a smile growing on their lips. “That’s true dedication, dude.”

You gave the stranger a dirty look as they began walking away to wherever they were heading, personally, you could care less. You looked back over at the boys and pointed a finger at them to make one thing clear. “Yeah. That is not gonna be a new thing.”

\+ + +

You understood the feeling of being sucked into a good book or a TV show, being immersed with the plot and characters that seem to grow on you more through each page you turn or how many episodes you watch. Throwing yourself into other fictional worlds was how you used to cope with the loneliness when you were younger. And sometimes reading a good book was how you could get your mind away from the stresses of being a hunter. But you were finding it hard to understand how people could find your written counterpart so interesting in the book series called “Supernatural.” You had abandoned the brothers at the bar about fifteen minutes ago for the merch table that were selling the books for anyone that might want to buy. Nobody was around, giving you a chance to read a book you picked up for random. You skimmed the first few pages with little interest, you had already read half of them online. It was holding the actual paperback in your hands that made this entire situation so surreal.

Your entire life for the past twenty six years was here, from your wicked past of how you came to be from the demon deal your mother made and how they knew Andrew was a demon. Thanks to book number nine and ten. The books even included mentions of your faulty deal with Yellow Eyes for Sam and another one made right after with another demon as an attempt of saving Dean. “No Rest for the Wicked” sure did include every little detail of the final hours of your life from the first kiss with Dean, all the way down to the horrendous twist of fate after the boys realized Lilith was possessing your body, forcing you to watch all before being thrown into the same demise.

Every single internal feeling and deep fear you had ever had was written in black and white, then placed in paperback with some tacky looking cover. It was hard for you to understand how people could love your character so much that they wanted to be like you. Not to mention how everyone in this room thought all of the monster they read about were just fictional beings. And all the hunts you went on was just another adventure they could read about in the comfort of their own home.

“All I’m saying is that Dean always gets the girl. Why can’t Sam have a bit of happiness in his life?”

“Because everyone Sam loves dies a slow and agonizing death. Mary and Jess, not to mention Madison. And if you want to blur the lines, I’m sure Ruby didn’t stray too far from Hell.”

There was a distant conversation not too far from where you were standing about a subject matter that you were growing tired of hearing about. Looking up from the bok, your eyes wandered over to across the room where you saw two girls sitting at a table with a few beers in hand. Both of them were heavily in conversation, not seeming to notice a bystander eavesdropping on their conversation. You watched as both of them argued their points of who Y/N could have ended up with at the end of “Supernatural” if it hadn’t ended with two main characters meeting a bloody demise.

One argued that Dean and Y/N had chemistry since the first chapter. She was his mystery woman that he had kept secret for so many years, his last bit of normalcy to a past he didn’t even remember before hunting. Her friend tried to argue again that Dean had a chance at something real, and that was with Cassie. Of course, that didn’t work out. Her friend argued that Sam was the best fit for Y/N’s character. Both of them were children thrown into a lifestyle they didn’t want. Each of them found comfort in one another and had a relationship that was natural. He was smart like her, and despite his fatal touch, it seemed like Y/N didn’t stay down for long.

Both of the girls, just like everyone in this room, were just having fun. Each of them started smiling and laughing a few moments later, making a few comments about how much they loved Y/N. “I mean, she’s a total—” One of them began speaking, but she couldn’t finish her sentence when someone poorly dressed as Dean came strolling up, deciding he should have put his opinion in on a conversation that was harmless to begin with.

“Y/N’s character is totally pointless, if you ask me.” He said with a cocky tone. You narrowed your eyes on him as the girls started to roll their eyes from his opinion nobody asked for. “I hope she stays dead. I mean, what does she even add to the storyline?”

“A lot, actually.” One of them remarked. “Considering she’s one of the main characters…”

“She was only added to reach out for a bigger female audience and a cheap attempt at ruining a good storyline for a dumb romance.” The man continued on talking, despite the glares he was getting from both of the girls. “Y/N’s just as useless as all the other female characters in the book. I bet you in the next one all it’s gonna be about is Sam and Dean whining about how they miss Y/N while they try to get revenge on Lilith. Sort of like how they got revenge on Azazel after he killed Mary and Jess. It’s gonna be the same plotline all over again.”

"Is that, so?” The man looked away from the girls to see another voice had jumped into the conversation. He found himself letting out a chuckle to see you standing there with a brow arched up and your arms crossed over your chest. “ I have to disagree. I think she’s done a lot of hard work over the past several yea—I mean, books. I think she’s worked her ass over enough to get some credit. She’s done a lot.”

“Like, what? Get captured by the bad guys half the time? Or maybe it’s getting herself almost killed because she has no idea what’s she’s doing.” He man argues with you, only causing your lips to stretch into a smirk and press your arms tighter around your body. “She’s stupid. Not to mention her selling her soul for the boys. She’s not a ‘strong female character.’ She’s weak, stupid and shows no redeeming qualities.”

“Right. Because Sam and Dean have never done anything stupid to get themselves into trouble. I mean, Y/N made a few mistakes because she was naive and learned how to hunt from the beginning. It’s called character development and learning from her mistakes. And selling her soul for the boys doesn’t make her a weak character or a plot device to move the story along. Dean did the exact same thing and I bet you would say that’s heroic of him. But if a female does something for a male character it makes her less of. Hmm?” You raised a brow after giving your opinion that he didn’t ask for. “Or maybe you don’t like Y/N’s character—or any of the female characters—is because they’re smarter, stronger and level headed than you’ll ever be. And for someone like you, who probably still lives in his mom’s basement, gets intimated pretty quickly by the opposite gender.”

Both of the girls stared at you with slightly growing grins as each of them reached out to drink their beers. The man tried his hardest to ignore what you had just said, he adjusted himself looked away. You were about to walk away, but something else popped into your head, and it was too good to pass up. "Come to think of it. You and Y/N do have one thing in common.” You said as you wagged your index finger at him “Both are you are gonna die virgins, that’s for sure.”

You turned around in your spot and headed for the bar again, a smirk stretching across your lips as one of the girls let out a giggle as the other accidentally spit out a bit of her drink from what you had said. Nonetheless, the man walked away from the girls, leaving them alone to continue on with their night as you made your way back to the bar where you had left the boys. You lean against the wooden countertop and wave up an arm to get the bartender’s attention, all while making sure not to accidentally smack the girl in the face that was sitting on the other side of the bar just a seat down. She didn’t seem to realize you were standing next to her as she quietly texted on her phone. You notice from her powdered face to make her complexion and outdated outfit she must have been on the actors working tonight, probably the infamous Leticia Gore that was supposed to be haunting the halls. But it seemed that even ghosts needed a break.

“For the last time, I’m not making this up, okay? She—She’s upstairs! A real, live, dead ghost!” You looked over your shoulder to see there was a guy, dressed like Sam, going on about being attacked. You wondered if he was just part of the show, but seeing that he was bleeding from the head and showed discolored bruising, you were starting to believe otherwise. His friend tried to calm him down by saying that it could have been one of the actors just getting too into characters, but he caught him off. “Who beat the crap out me and vanished?”

You looked over at the boys and gave a shrug, thinking that you might have possibly gotten a case here, after all. The three of you walked over to the boys and added yourself into the conversation. “You saw something?” Sam asked rather politely. But the guy thought you were trying to play the game like everyone else causing him to look at the taller man with an annoyed glare.

“Look, this isn’t part of the game, jerk.” He snapped at the three of you, obviously having had enough of tonight’s antics as he looked back over at his friend to tell him the change of plans. “Tim, I’m getting out here, and I suggest you do the same.”

You watched as the both of them stormed out, one following the other, making you rather curious of what could be going on around here. Perhaps Chuck wasn’t too creative at making up his own story for a change and needed a real haunted place to set up the convention for the feel. “What do you think?” Sam asked the both of you.

“I don’t think that guy’s good enough actor to be acting.” Dean said, you nodded your head in agreement.

You and the boys, in true fashion, decided to as around the staff to see if there was possible truth of what people were saying around here. While you had seen a few people taking part of the festivities, you would only think you would be playing along in the game and tell you the same speech they’d been giving everyone dressed in cheap suits and showing off their fake badges. You wandered around the hotel until you spotted a man working behind the front desk, and showing no interest to what was going on around him. And that was the exact person you wanted to personally talk to. You and the brothers began heading for the front desk, you passed a group of people as they all circled around the same man giving the speech earlier tonight. You passed by them showing no amount of interest as you placed your hand on the wooden countertop.

“Excuse us.” You said, catching the man’s attention as he looked up from his paperwork. You gave him a polite smile as you tapped your fingertips against the countertop. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Look, I don’t have to play 'Star Wars,’ guys.” He said, showing little interest in keeping this conversation alive. He pointed the tip of his pen across the room, directing your attention over to the man you had just passed. “Go ask the guy in the ascot.”

You and the boys exchanged a look, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy, but there was one way to make anybody talk. Dean reached a hand to his back pocket to pull out his wallet. "Actually, we, uh,” Slipping out a fifty dollar bill and across the countertop, the sight of green makes the man look up from his paperwork again. “Really want to talk to you.”

“Okay. You guys are really into this.” The man laughed out, taken back at the money in front him. He cautiously glanced up to see if all of you were being serious, you gave him a small smile that made him confident enough to quietly grab the money while nobody was looking. “What do you want to know?”

“All this stuff they’re saying—place being haunted, Leticia Gore. Is there any truth to it?” You asked him, curious for answers.

“We generally don’t like to publicize this to, you know, normal people. But, yeah, in 1909, this place was called Gore orphanage. Miss. Gore killed four boys with a butcher knife, then offed herself.” He explained to the three of you, giving the exact same information you had heard earlier tonight. Dean asked him if tonight was really the anniversary of the crime, the man nodded his head. “Yep. Guess your convention folks wanted authenticity.”

“There been any sightings?” Sam asked.

“Uh, over the years, yeah. A few maids have quit, saying they heard the boys or saw them.” The man said. You listened to what he was saying, not having a clue you had two eavesdroppers on the conversation. “A janitor even saw Miss Gore once.”

“Where did Miss Gore carve up the kids?” Dean continued on asking, but it seemed that one came with a higher price point.

“Look, I don’t want you stomping all over the joint. A lot of this place is off-limits to nerds.” He said, not giving up the answer so easily. You rolled your eyes from the remark as Dean took another fifty out from his wallet and discreetly making another offer the man couldn’t refuse. Of course he grabbed the cash and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “The attic.”

You gave him another smile and thanked him for the help. All though you weren’t too happy at getting this information with a hundred bucks wasted, but you might have actual problems if Miss Gore decided to start carving up a few guests if she gotten word of what was going on around here. You and the boys traveled up to the second floor of the building try and find an entrance to the attic. Sam managed to find the string that dangled from the ceiling, and thanks to his freakishly tall height, he had to just lift up his arm and effortlessly pulled down the flimsy looking ladder that lead to the attic. You always had a little bit of a fear of heights, and looking at the flimsy wood that looked like it couldn’t hold your weight without breaking, it made you slightly nervous. But you swallowed down your nervousness as you watched Sam head up first, and besides the creaking coming from the ladder, he made it up relatively safe. You fished out your flashlight and turned it on, making sure to have it handy as you descended your way up to the void of darkness and dust.

Pushing yourself up to a standing position, you left your flashlight on the ground for a moment as you steadied yourself on the attic floor and tried to get the dust off your jeans. You bent back down and grabbed your flashlight to try and navigate your way as Dean crawled his way up from the tiny space that was too narrow for him. You began looking around to look around the place to see what it had become over a hundred years later. Mostly the place had turned into another storage unit for unwanted things like rusty headboards and outdated looking furniture the hotel had long forgotten about. If nobody had heard about the tragic history of this place, someone might not have suspected four brutal murders and a suicide happened right here.

The three of you worked mostly in silence, letting your footsteps treading across the wooden floors and the quiet buzzing coming from the EMF reader be the only noise. Sam stood next to you as he scanned the room to take a brief sweep. You looked over to see the needle was jumping back and forth into place as the little red bulbs were brightly lit. “The EMF’s going nuts.” Sam said.

“Great.” You muttered underneath your breath at the dangerous situation that was unfolding. “So, we’ve got a real ghost, and a bunch of nerds, pretending to be us, poking at it. This isn’t gonna end well.”

“You know what? Serves them right.” Dean said with a snarky tone. You furrowed your brow from his remark as you flashed your light at him. Giving in a dirty look, you mumbled his name underneath your breath as you shook your head. You didn’t like this situation as much as he did, but there was no reason to wish harm on someone innocent. It was your job to make sure that didn’t happen, much as you despised some of these people. “Well, I’m just saying.”

You rolled your eyes from his attitude before parting ways with him, deciding to go on your own for a chance at finding anything that might explain what happened here or where Miss Gore was buried. You didn’t have your usual time of research like most hunts. This was more of a spur of the moment with a little bit of background information that was useful enough to know that this place was harboring a malicious spirit that would probably strike again due to some unwanted attention. You quietly wandered through the attic and followed whatever the flashlight could pick up. Mostly all you could see was outdated furniture and rags, not to mention cobwebs and dust. Nothing seemed to have popped out as unordinary, that was, until you heard a childish voice speak from behind you, making you jump a few inches in the air in surprise.

“My mommy loves me.” You quickly turned around in your spot to see there was a little boy crouched down in the corner. Your flashlight put a spotlight on him so you could see that he was dressed in dirty clothes, and far outdated for this time period. He stared at you with his hands on his head, and again, he professed something to you. “I said my mommy loves me.”

You heard the shuffle of feet across the floor before you saw the boys heading your way at the sound of an unfamiliar voice break the silence. Both of them notice right away of the little boy, you gave him a small smile as you nodded your head. “I’m sure she does.” You agreed with the little boy, thinking he must have been one of the victims.

“My mommy loves me this much.” The little boy drew out his hands to show you, but you only noticed the wound on his head. Your eyes widened in slight horror at seeing his skull peek through with fresh trickles of blood seeping from the wound. His hair and skin missing from where Miss Gore had butchered it out with the knife. When you glanced back down at the boy, he vanished from your sight, going off back to where he’d been hiding for the past hundred years.

\+ + +

You and Dean stayed back, getting a table for yourself and quietly waited for Sam to get back. You scanned the bar to see how things were coming along, only to spot Becky across the room, her gaze solely on the younger Winchester. She quietly sipped on her cocktail and watched as the man. While Sam busied himself with the conversation, Becky was feeling a bit bold. You didn’t know if she was starting to feel a bit tipsy from the drinks from what unfolded next. She lifted up her and decided to lick of her hand to blow a pretend kiss at the man, all before topping off the gesture with an awkward attempt at a wink. Sam responded with an awkward wave from across the room, unsure of what the hell just happened.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked over at Chuck, who sat right across from her at the table, looking a little defeated. It seemed your assumption about Chuck was right, he was harboring a crush on his number one fan, who was seemingly a little too preoccupied with the other Winchester. “Awesome.” Chuck muttered underneath his breath as he brought his beer glass to his mouth, decided that he was in desperate need of a drink.

Becky had a thing for Sam, who she once only thought was just a fictional character by the author Carver Edlund, only to find out that Sam was a very real person and Carver was just a penname for Chuck. Chuck had first used Becky, the self-titled number one fan, as a way to safely transport some useful information after Lucifer was freed from the cage. Only it seems that after being around her for a little while, he was starting to grow fond of her. Meanwhile, Sam was too obvlious to what was going on, and had no desire to even give Becky the time of day. And here you thought things couldn’t have gotten any weirder.

“All right. So, that was the guy with the county historical society.” Sam came back to the table after wrapping up his phone call to tell you what he learned. “Not only did Leticia Gore butcher the four boys, one of them was her own son. According to the police at the time, she scalped the poor kid.”

“Oh, that’s it. I’m gonna deep-fry this bitch extra-crispy.” Dean let out a bitter chuckle from hearing the news. Whenever children were involved, it always set something off inside of you, and hearing that a woman had killed her own child out of cold blood made you want to burn her bones fast as possible. “Dude say she was buried?”

“He doesn’t know.” Sam answered.

“Check it out.” You heard someone trying to speak in a deep and gravelly voice from behind you, causing you to look over your shoulder at who it was coming from. Two guys, one that you recognized from earlier today as Dean, sat at a small table with his partner, who was attempting at being Sam. “There’s the orphanage, here’s the Carriage house. And right there, cemetary.”

“You think that’s where Leticia’s planted?” Dean, the imposter, asked his partner. You looked over at the boys with an annoyed look, seeming to realize you had a shadow following on your actual trail. Pushing yourself up to your feet, you casually headed over to the other men, and reached out a hand to take the map from them, only it seemed the fake Dean was fast, letting you only feel the paper before snatching it away. “Hey. Ooh. Hey, hey! Hey, do you mind lady?”

The fake Dean folded the map back up as he gave you a dirty look at trying to steal his piece of evidence from you. “It’s real.” You said, looking over at the brothers. “A century old, at least.”

“And he’s right.” Sam said. “There is a cemetery on the grounds.”

“Where’d you get that?” You asked the two men.

“It’s called a game, sister.” Dean, the player, told you. You raised your brow from his tone of voice, obviously not too amused at the little act he was playing. “It ain’t called a 'charity.’”

“All right,” Dean stretched out his arm in front him and wiggled his fingers at the man pretending to be him. “Give me the map, chuckles.”

“Oh, you’re the chuckles…chuckles. Besides,” The man failed at an attempt of lashing out another sarcastic jab that only Dean could come up with, but he had other leverage. You quickly bit your bottom lip to keep a laugh from escaping your throat when you watched him lift up his leather jacket, showing off his toy gun that was stuffed in his jeans. “Dean don’t listen to nobody.”

“Dean, cool it.” His friend said, attempting to play his character through.

Dean rolled his eyes from what was unfolding right in front of his very eyes. He copied the other man’s actions, but this time, he wasn’t afraid to pull out his gun from his jacket, showing it off for a moment before you quickly slapping his palm back so the weapon could be hidden before anyone would notice it. “What, Y/N? They’re friggin’ annoying.”

“So are you, like ninety percent of the time I’m with you and Sam. But you don’t see me trying to shoot either one of you.” You hissed at him, making the man shove the gun back to where it came from. Dean gave you a glare from forcing him to take the high road. You looked back over at the other men, deciding to try and play peace maker between teams. “Look, guys, we all want to find the bones, right? We just thought it would go faster if we all work together.”

Both of the men glanced over at one another and silently tried to figure out what they should do. It took a moment before the one playing Sam looked over at you and nodded his head, agreeing with your plan. “We, uh, we get the Sizzler gift card.” He said, wanting to make that clear.

“Fine.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath, already he was detesting your plan.

The one playing the oldest Winchester added one more negotiation, “We get to play Sam and Dean.”

“Fine with me.” You said, jumping into the conversation again. “As long as I can play Y/N.”

"Is that who you’re supposed to be?” The man playing Dean asked. You looked over at him with a confused expression, but you nodded your head, all before asking him what he meant by that. “I mean, you’re not really dressed like her. And you’re giving me more…Meg vibes. From the way you’re dressed to how you’ve been acting. I mean, this really isn’t gonna logically play out. She’s a demon trying to kill us. I don’t think she would help us—”

“Trust me, I know what that black-eyed bitch is capable of! I've—” You snapped at the men by accident, suddenly finding the thought of being recognized as Meg, the mega bitch who was still roaming around the world, made your skin crawl in annoyance. You find yourself having the same reaction as Dean, but before you could spill any truth, you calmed yourself down by clearing your throat. “I’ve read the books cover to cover. I just…really don’t like her. I’m playing Y/N. That’s final.”

“Okay.” The one playing Sam said. “If you say so.”

You scoffed at what he said and crossed your arms over your chest, watching as the two men began heading for the doorway. Dean followed behind a second later and headed for the Impala to get a few supplies, Sam walked over to you and peered down at you. Looking up, you gave him a glare from what he said next. “I mean, I can kinda see it.” He said, his lips stretching into a certain way whenever he was trying to be funny. You narrowed your eyes on him and muttered how much you hated him right now. “Let’s go, Shrimp. Before people get the wrong idea.”

“I hate you. I really do.” You muttered to him. “Sleep with one eye open, Sasquatch.”

Sam laughed off your threat as he began walking to the entrance of the hotel, where his brother was waiting ever so impatiently for the two of you. Rolling your eyes, you followed behind, managing to catch up with everyone else. The brothers packed up the supplies you would need for a salt and burn before catching up with the other two men that were playing them. You walked in the middle between both groups, wanting nothing more than for this entire night to be over with. But if you were having a rough night, Dean was slowly losing his nerve, and it wasn’t helping when he was forced to agree to play a whole other role beside himself. You looked over your shoulder to the other man when he was trailing behind with a duffel bag full of salt and loaded shotguns, trying his hardest not to use of the weapons on him.

“Hey, Rufus, Bobby,” The fake Dean called out, “Would you hurry it up?”

Dean wanted to lash out at the man, but he composed himself long enough to let the situation roll off his back. The men in front of you continued on with the game they were playing. “So, where were we?” The one playing Sam asked as he walked through the dark hotel grounds.

“Uh, Dr. Ellicott had just zapped your brain.” His friend said, setting the scene.

And here you thought things between the two men couldn’t have gotten any weirder, you realized they were acting out scenes from the book. You rolled your eyes and looked up at the night sky for a second to calm yourself down the cringing feeling that was starting to settle in the atmosphere. You were trying so hard to be understanding, but they were making it harder with each passing second. “Why are we even here, Dean?” The one playing Sam asked his friend. “Do you just follow in Dad’s footsteps like a good, little soldier? Are you that desperate for approval?”

“This isn’t you talking, Sam.” The fake Dean said.

“See, that’s the difference between you and me. I got a mind of my own. I’m not pathetic.” The one playing Sam said. You found yourself thinking the last line he said was slowly starting to come true. But you kept your opinion to yourself.

“So, what are you gonna do, Sam?” The fake Dean questioned him. “You gonna kill me?”

“Man, I am so sick of you telling me what to do!”

“Oh, you know what? That—That’s it. That is it.” Dean officially hit his breaking point, having enough with the flashbacks that were starting to come back. And seeing these two chuckleheads acting it out was the cherry on top of a disastrous night. The man pretending to be him asked him what was wrong, Dean rolled his eyes when he was addressed as Bobby Singer. The man he was supposed to be playing in this bogus game. “I’m not Bobby, okay? You’re not Sam. You’re not Dean! What is wrong with you? Why in the hell would you choose to be these guys?”

“Because we’re fans, like you.” The fake Sam said.

“No. I am not a fan, okay? Not fans.” Dean said, wanting to make the point crystal clear. “In fact, I think the 'Dean, Sam and Y/N’ storyline sucks! It is not fun. It’s not entertaining. It’s a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nuthouse! So, you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean, do you think that they enjoy being treated like—like circus freaks?”

“Uh, I don’t think they care,” The man playing Dean said. “Because they’re fictional characters.”

“Oh, they care. Believe me.” Dean hissed at the two men. “They care a lot.”

And with that said, Dean pushed himself between the two men and began walking off again, needing to get the anger out before he mentioned something he would regret. You slowly looked over at the men, who were staring at you and Sam with the most complexed expression, wondering what the hell had just unfolded. “He, uh…” You tried your hardest to explain Dean’s outburst, but you were falling short of a reasonable one. “He takes the story really seriously.” You gave both of the men a smile before you were walking past them, trying to figure out your way to the cemetery, wanting nothing more than for this hunt to be over with.

\+ + +

It was about a fifteen minute walk from the hotel to the cemetery, all in which you had spent in silence, luckily for you, the men pretending to to be the Winchesters decided to call it quits after you gave them a deathly glare. You were starting to remember the hunt in which you and the boys checked out a haunted asylum John texted you the coordinates to. It was supposed to be one last hooray for you before going back home. But the hunt wasn’t just about Sam getting a bit of electric shock therapy from a psychologist whose medical practices were far outdated, which caused people to start feeling emotions that were buried deep inside of them. You had gotten zapped yourself right while you and Dean were trying to burn what bones remained of the man’s rotting corpse. While you didn’t start speaking negatively to the boys, you had seen things about yourself that once you thought was just some mind trick, only to realize it was the truth you were trying to hide from yourself and everyone around you.

You kept yourself occupied with examining the cemetery grounds as you examined every tombstone you passed, wondering the names on each of them, and if they belonged to the victims or the woman who murdered them. All of you had taken different corners of the large acre of ground, examining each stone with precise examination. You stumbled upon one of a little boy that had died only at nine years old, with three more to match just a few seconds later. Your grip around the flashlight tightened in anger at how young these poor kids were. Dean was right, this woman was going to get an extra helping of lighter fluid when you were done with her.

“Found the four boys.” You called out to the brothers.

“And here’s Leticia Gore.” Sam said, finding the burial sight not too far away.

Dean looked around the cemetery to see where the other two men could have gone. Despite his unwillingness to be civil with the people who were trying their hardest to impersonate him, he wasn’t going to be an idiot of letting them get hurt, much as he wished for them to get the crap scared of them. Dean flashed his light over at the men to see both of them were still near the entrance of the cemetery, examining headstones with the one trying to impersonate him gripping the map he refused to give up. “Uh, what are you doing?”

The one pretending to be him quickly shot up when he heard Dean’s voice break the silence that had been following all of you since he stormed off first, having had enough of the little charade. He raised a brow at the men, giving an impatient look for an answer. “Uh, we’re looking for bones, genius.” Leather jacket said by using his best Dean impression. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, thankful for the darkness so they couldn’t see your growing annoyance towards them. “They got to be around here somewhere.”

“Okay, generally, bones are in the ground.” You said, tapping your foot against the grass.

“I know that. I’m just—” He said. You scoffed as you looked over at the brothers to see they were already getting down to business. Both of them dropped the duffel bags to the ground and began to pull out the proper tools you would be needing to get the job done. The boys were always stuck with shoving up the stiff, you graciously accepted the loaded shotgun filled with salt rounds. As you looked over your shoulder to the two other men, it seemed you had made him loss for words from what was going on. “Wait. Hold on. Are you guys serious.”

“Deadly.” You answered for him.

The one pretending to be Sam seemed unsure of this plan. But he didn’t know if it was breaking the law to dig up real human remains, or the loaded weapon in your hands. You rolled your eyes again and reassured the man that it was loaded with salt rounds. The worst that could happen to him was that he would getting a nasty bruise if you decided to shoot him. “We’re—We’re not really digging up graves, guys.” He said, still seeming to be stuck on the next plan of action. This wasn’t in the rules. “We’re just playing the game, so—”

“Trust us.” Dean reassured the man. “You want to win the game, right?”

When both of the men nodded their head, it was enough for you to continue on with the salt and burn as if you didn’t have to witnesses to accompany you. You were hoping they would get fooled into thinking the grave all of you were about to desecrate was only part of the game they were playing. The brothers spent a little less than an hour before Sam pushed himself out of the grave as Dean continued on, taking only a few more shovels of dirt before you heard the dull thud of the shovel hitting the top of the wooden coffin. Dean reached up and tossed his shovel to where your feet were before bending down, knowing he was going to need two hands for this.

You could feel a breeze beginning to pick up around you when Dean reached over and placed both hands on the coffin to try and take the top off on his own. It a few hard tugs before you heard the sounds of wood breaking, making you peer down at the familiar sight below as the smell of rotted corpse and the deep aroma of earth fill your nostrils. However, it seemed the smell was overwhelming for the two men pretending to be Sam and Dean, your eyes wandered up when you heard their reactions.

“That’s uh, not a plastic skeleton.” The one pretending to be Dean managed to say. You could hear the shock in his voice as he pointed a finger down at the decomposed body six feet below him. “That’s a skeleton skeleton.”

“You just dug up a real grave.” His friend stated, you slowly nodded your head at him.

Both of them were speechless at what was unfolding right in front of their eyes. Each of them tried figuring out if this was some prank that was being pulled on them, but the body inside the coffin was too real, and the three of you were too casual, like you’d done this before. "You guys are nuts.” Pretend Dean mumbled as he looked at you with a horrified expression.

“I thought you said you guys wanted to be hunters.” Sam said.

“Hunters aren’t real, man.” Pretend Dean stated. He wanted to make the point clear enough for the three of you, who were seeming to take the main characters and the reality of the books a little too far. Only did he realize the fictional world that he had been reading was all but reality. “This isn’t real.”

“Oh, my God.” Pretend Sam muttered underneath his breath. He peered down at the grave before taking a step backwards and turning around, suddenly wanting to be far away from here as possible before something bad happened. “You guys have just seriously lost your grip on this—”

Pretend Sam peered over his shoulder just at the right moment to look at the three of you for the last time, but before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes went wide with fear. You gave the two of them a look, wondering what was making them so scared all of a sudden again. You gotten your answer a few seconds later when you heard a voice come from behind, giving you and Sam barely anytime to react.

"Naughty. Naughty.” You quickly turned around in your spot to see it was Leticia herself, standing right in front of you with a scolding look on her face. You were about to raise up the shotgun and take an aim at her, but before you could, you felt your body being tossed back and landing roughly against the grass, the weapon landing just a foot from where you laid. Sam wasn’t as fortunate, she looked at him with more of an angered expression. “Naughty, naughty boy.”

Sam was thrown into the air, far enough for him to hit his head roughly on the ground and being knocked unconscious for a few moments. You tried your hardest to recover from the fall as Dean pushed himself out from the grave, knowing Leticia was here to strike revenge, and the bumbling Hardy boys were screaming like a bunch of banshees after seeing the real deal. Dean headed for the duffel bag he dropped across the way, making him curse underneath his breath as he raced to find the lighter fluid and salt. You placed a hand on the grass and began slowly push yourself up into a sitting position. You cradled the back of your head and winced at the dull throb beginning to settle in your head, as it was only getting worse from the screams coming from the two men.

“Oh, my God!”

“Naughty, naughty, naughty!”

You could hear the panicked screams turn into ones of pain in just the matter of seconds. Working through the pain, you quickly pushed yourself to your feet and snatched the gun up from the ground, knowing Dean was a little busy trying to burn the bones to help the other men from being the woman’s next victim. She had placed her hands on each of their chests to inflict some sort of pain, but before could do any permanent damage, you aimed your sight on the target and took a shot, letting her body disintegrate into smoke before disappearing. All though she wasn’t giving up without a fight. You heard one of them say she was behind you, making you turn on your heels, cock back the gun, and take another aim. You were fumbling around, wasting ammunition on Leticia as she tried her hardest to get her hands on the men. All though you were due for a round of target practice, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

You cocked back the gun again and got ready to aim at Leticia, but as your finger pressed down on the trigger, you realized all of your ammunition was used up. Leticia smirked at you, knowing she was about to get what she wanted, but Dean was one step ahead of her. With a flick of the lighter, her corpse went up in flames, making her body vanish into a cloud of as and smoke. You let out sigh of relief as you dropped your arms to your side, happy to see Leticia back where she belonged, and this hunt could be considered wrapped up. You turned around in your spot to face the two men, who had thought only minutes ago, all of this was just fiction they read in a book. But from the terrified expressions on their face, it seemed they were a believer now.

“Real enough for you?”

\+ + +

Everyone took the news of learning about the supernatural on their own terms. It took some time to process that the monsters they grew up to believe were just monsters made up from movies and books were very much the real thing. One of the best ways to cope with a nasty hunt was to drink away your problems, and that’s where you found the two men. Both of them were at the bar, silently drinking a few beers as Pretend Dean occupied himself with downing a shot just seconds after the bartender poured him the drink. Deciding it wasn’t good to leave on bad terms, you roped the brothers into saying a final goodbye, knowing all of this was going to be a hard pill to swallow for the other two men.

“That was…” Pretend Sam trailed off as his lips curled to the right side of his mouth, pressing tightly at his cheek as he tried to comprehend what he had seen. “Really…”

“Awful, right? Exactly.” Dean’s voice coming from behind made the two men jump slightly in their seats by surprise. You gave them both a small smile as they just stared almost blankly at you, their minds still numb. Dean decided that he might have been a bit harsh on them, so as a friendly parting gift, he slipped a twenty out from his wallet and slapped it down on the countertop between the two of them. “Rounds on us, guys.”

“See you around.” Sam said, you saluted and turned around in your spot.

“Hey.” Pretend Dean shifted around in his seat and called out to you guys, making you look over your shoulder at him, curious to see what he wanted. “How did you know how to do all of that?”

You looked over at the boys, wondering what kind of little white lie you could say in order to let this one pass. Both of them went silent as they shared a few glances, you looked back over at the two men, answering them with a half truthful response. “We read the books.” You told them. “Things just went from there.”

You gave them a final goodbye as you waved to them, you still had one more person to find before you could finally hit the road. You followed behind as the boys spotted Chuck himself talking to one of the hotel workers, probably going over the convention for tomorrow’s plan. “Hey, Chuck.” Dean called out to the man, making the author jump slightly at the familiar voice. Chuck hesitantly made eye contact with the man, knowing the friendly smile was just a little act, the Winchester’s words were clear enough to show how all of you felt about the unexpected news Chuck had dropped earlier this evening. “Good luck with the ‘Supernatural’ books. And screw you very much.”

Chuck swallowed down the words with a follow up of a nod, knowing he could tell neither you or the boys were rather happy at the plans he decided to pull. But all of you had to do things you didn’t want to do just to survive. You trailed behind the brothers as they headed for the double doors that were freedom away from this convention and to the precious Impala’s backseat that you were craving. Both of the boys took a handle to open up the doors, they thought a simple push like the directions on the golden handle would have been enough, but the doors didn’t budge a single inch. You furrowed your brow as they tried, Dean even went to see if the lock was accidentally put into place, but it wasn’t. Something else was keeping the doors shut.

“That’s weird.” Dean said.

His brother agreed, “Definitely.”

You rolled your eyes in frustration, hoping this situation could all just be explained by some faulty lock that was stuck in place. All of you agreed to split up and find some exit or window that could somehow let you slip out. But every single door that you tried to push on wouldn’t budge, and every window that you had access to wouldn’t crack a single inch. You retraced your steps back to the brothers, who both had the same confused expression on their face as you wondered what was going on here. Sam looked over at you to see if you had any more luck than they had, you shook your head in defeat as your lips stretched into a frown.

“Every exit is locked.” You said, admitting the truth you didn’t want to hear right now. “Almost like something’s keeping us in this hell hole.”

“This is bad.” Sam said, you narrowed your eyes on the man from his observation on how the night was slowly unfolding for all of you.

“Gee, you think Sammy?” You asked him with a sarcastic tone of voice.

As if things couldn’t have gotten any worse, you found your head snapping to the back of you when you heard a female scream echo through the hotel, catching your attention. You and the boys didn’t waste a second to follow the sound to see that it had come from the actress that was playing the late Leticia herself. She looked terrified as she warned the three of you not to go into the room she was about to enter, only to be caught off guard by a sight she wouldn’t have suspected in a million years. Dean ushered to go downstairs where it would be safe, you took a step forward and approached the sight, wondering what was going on here.

“Why’d you do that?” A little boy asked. You approached the same child you had seen in the attic, and just like before, he was crouched in the corner with his hands pressed against his wound. You furrowed your brow from his question. “Why did you send my mommy away?”

“Uh, maybe because of the high-and-tight she gave you. Yeah? How 'bout some thanks?” Dean asked the little boy. You cleared your throat and looked over at the man, shaking your head from how he was acting. “Well, I’m just saying, a little gratitude might be nice once in awhile.”

“My mommy didn’t do this to me.” The little boy said.

“What?” Sam asked with surprise. All of you had suspected his mother was the culprit, turns out, you had gotten the wrong person. “Then, who did?”

Before the little boy could answer you, he vanished from your sight, leaving you with more questions to what was going on here. And a dead boy just moments later. You heard a terrified German scream not too far from where you were, making the body count for tonight rise up to one that was too many for your personal comfort. You and the boys knew something wrong was coming here, so as the boys tried rounding up everyone, you headed down to to the convention area where, for what little luck you had, all of the fans had been rounded up to hear whatever kind of nonsense Chuck was going on about. You quickly slipped yourself inside and passed all the fans, your attention solely on Chuck as he awkwardly wrapped up another question and answer portion of the convention. He didn’t even notice you step up on stage and approach him with the bad news you were about to bring him,

“Well, guys, I guess we're—we’re out of time. So thank you for the incredibly probing and rigorous questions, and have a good—” Chuck was about to wrap up his set, but you made a slicing motion with your hand to your neck, making him stop and look at you with a bit of a confused expression. You leaned over and cupped your hand to his ear, telling him what was going on before backing away. “What?! Holy crap!”

“Shhh!” You hissed at him as you slapped a hand against the top of the microphone so nobody could hear the conversation. “You got to keep everyone safe in here, Chuck. This is life-or-death.”

“For how long?” He asked.

You looked over to the back of the crowd to see the double doors to the room opened with a flood of bodies coming in. The brothers had rounded up all the hotel staff and guests they could find in the matter of a few minutes. “As long as it takes.”

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to do that?” He questioned you with a nervous tone.

You slowly looked over at the crowd of faces that were staring back at you with a confused and antsy expression, all of them were wondering what the hell was going on. You thought on your toes when you grabbed the microphone from Chuck’s hand and smiled, suddenly overcoming with stage fright. But you gave some crappy excuse that fell out of your mouth just seconds later.

“Good news! Carver here has got more time and lots more to tell you!” You said with a cheery tone as you looked over at the man. “Lots and lots of stuff. New content he’s been working on. More creatures that just…came to him, right?”

“Right.” Chuck said with a forced chuckle as he hesitantly grabbed the microphone back from you. “This totally isn’t awkward, or anything.”

Chuck wasn’t happy at the situation he was thrown into, but neither were you. You headed off the stage as he tried answering a fan’s question about witches, all before the conversation drifted to the fun idea of adding more villains into the story—your least favorite creatures, angels. You walked to the back of the room to see that the boys had already shut the door and salted the entrance, buying all of you some time before things got worse.

“Okay, new theory.” You said as you approached them. All of you walked to a safe distance from the crowd as you tried to figure out this situation before someone else got hurt. “The legend about Leticia are backwards, obviously.”

“Yeah, so, all right, let’s say those three orphans were—were playing cowboys and indians.” Sam said, coming up with a possible idea of what had gone down here all those decades ago. Dean corrected his brother that the boys were LARPing, you rolled your eyes. “Whatever—and let’s say they scalped Leticia’s son and kills him.”

“Mom catches them in the act, flips out, slices them and dices herself.” You said. You let a scoff roll underneath your breath at the situation you and the boys had landed yourselves in, proving that mother always knew best. “And if that’s true, we got three bloodthirsty brats in the building.”

“Yeah,” Dean added more to the crappy situation you had landed yourselves in after jumping to theories to what was going on here. “And Letica was the only one keeping them under control.”

“Until we took her out.” Sam mumbled.

“Smooth move on our part.” Dean said, knowing this wasn’t all of your brightest accomplishments. “All right, well, we got to get back to the cemetery and torch those kids’ bones.”

“How? We’re trapped.” Sam told his brother, as if it wasn’t clear enough. “We don’t even have our guns. The ghosts are running this joint, and they were only scared of one thing.”

“Exactly.” You said a few seconds later. You slowly glanced over at the girl that was sitting in the back of the row, her wagging foot popped out from her long skirt she was wearing as she mindlessly played with her phone to pass the time. “I have an idea, guys.”

It took a bit of convincing, but you managed to get the girl playing Leticia Gore to switch clothes with you, letting her take your clothes as you dressed yourself in the hideous outfit she’d been wearing all night. This was going by a long shot, but you had a theory that might work on a couple of brats that needed to be feared. You just hoped the night wouldn’t end with you losing a part of your scalp after the little boys realized you weren’t their keeper. As you and brothers were trying to figure out the final details of the plan, you didn’t notice you were about to have a few extra helping hands. You felt someone tap their finger on your shoulder, making you turn around to see who it was. And by surprise, it was the two men, who had been pretending to be the Winchesters all night. It seemed they were up to play the real deal.

“We want to help.” Pretend Dean said with a serious tone.

“Guys, no.” Dean struck down the idea with a firm tone. 

“Why not?” Pretend Sam asked.

“Because this isn’t make-believe.” You told them. “All of this—everything that you’ve read, it’s real.”

“Look, we know.” Pretend Dean said. “We’re not nuts. We’re freaking terrified.”

“Yeah, but if all those people are seriously in trouble,” Pretend Sam jumped into the conversation, wanting to give his personal reason why. “We got to do something.”

“Why?” Dean asked the two men.

“Because,” Pretend Dean answered. “That’s why the boys and Y/N would do.”

You looked over at the older Winchester, both of you shared a look for a moment, slowly, the idea began to grow on you. All of you agreed that they could get themselves involved, only if Sam would stay with them, giving them a few pointers for their second round of a salt and burn. You and Dean headed down to the lounging area where you had last seen Leticia’s son. As you approached the corner, you were getting a little bit nervous, despite Dean being your backup with an iron rod he found at the fireplace. You slowly approached the room with a bit of hesitance in your step, partly because you were always a terrible actress. You had your run of school plays through your years during Elementary school, and even the smallest speaking parts always left you with wicked stage fright. It caused you to be cast into the back, where you were most happy. This should have been easy, all you had to do was round up a bunch of bratty ten year olds, with the ability to skin you at the flick of their wrist.

“God,” You found yourself suddenly becoming self-conscious of every little move you made, wondering if one wrong move would send the boys off. “This is such a stupid idea.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Dean peered over the corner to reassure you. “I got your back. Trust me. This is gonna work. Show these little brats who’s boss.”

“Boys! Boys! Come here, this instant!” You called out to an empty room, feeling nothing more like an idiot as you cautiously looked around the room. You were waiting for one of them to pop out from thin air and attack you, but nothing happened. It shouldn’t have been this hard to round up a few kids. You’d gotten in trouble plenty of times. You knew your mother was upset from the tone of her voice. So, you decided to do just that. “You come to me when I call you! Do you understand me?!”

And it seemed to have done the trick. In the blink of an eye, you noticed three little boys standing in front of you, looking guilty for what they had done. One of them even had addressed you as Miss. Gore, reassuring you the plan was working. “You boys have been very naughty. Now, you open those doors.” You ordered at them with a strict tone of voice. “Open the doors right now!” It seemed to have been doing the trick from the look on their faces, you kept your composure and tried to remember what the woman had said to the boys back at the cemetery. It must have been what she said right before she slaughtered them and how she managed to keep them under control all of these years. “You’ve been naughty, you hear me? Naughty, naughty, naughty.”

While you were thinking that this plan might actually work out, the optimism was soon popped like a bubble when you heard something disrupt the silence in the room. You felt a slight vibration against your thigh, all before a loud burst of song took over the room, and it wasn’t one that just so happened to be from back in the day. You swallowed when you realized the noise was coming from the girl’s cell phone. She must have forgotten to take it out from the pocket of the skirt. All though you were hopeful the boys wouldn’t know, you quietly slipped a hand into the pocket, quickly ending the call before it could carry on. The little boys were now staring at you with their little terrifying expressions with the added touch of knives gripped tightly in their hands. You may have brought nothing to this fight, but you had backup that was better than nothing.

Dean stepped into the room with the iron rod in his hands as he carried it like a baseball bat, getting ready to smack around a few brats to show who was really in charge here. While the older Winchester was at least three times their size and not afraid to pick on someone that was smaller than him, spirits had a tendency of easily taking control of the situation. The little boys starting approaching you with their creepily little smiles as they drew out their own weapons, ready to mark Dean as their second victim of the night. Dean was about ready to take a swing, but that pesky little trick spirits could do showed up. You heard the iron rod clatter to the floor as Dean was thrown against the wall, making him lose his weapon, like how things always had a tendency of happening. You didn’t think much of it as you quickly bent down to grab the rod from the floor, but your fingers barely grazed the weapon, all before you were meeting the safe fate as Dean.

You winced in pain when you felt your backside roughly hit the wall, knocking what breath you had in your lungs right out of them. The both of you tried to recover, but it seemed you had two little rugrats at your feet, getting ready to slice and dice again, but before they had a chance, you watched as they disappeared into a cloud of smoke. You furrowed your brow in slight confusion, only to realize that Sam had stayed behind, managing to come right in the nick of time. He grabbed the iron rod from the ground and swung at the boys when they were least suspecting it, making them vanish from your sight, at least, for now.

Sam helped you to your feet first, making sure you didn’t trip over the long skirt you were wearing as he quickly went for his brother right after. You were starting to thank the modern women for the ability to wear pants, you didn’t know others had survived and done so much while wearing so much fabric that wouldn’t expose skin at the time. You thanked the younger Winchester for the helping hand, and while you were about to suggest a plan, it seemed the little boys wanted to play again. You felt your body being thrown around again like a rag doll, being used for their own amusement, with little effort, you were sliding across the wooden floors and feeling a burning situation across your skin.

The brothers had little time to react before Sam had met the same fate as you, leaving Dean frustrated at how the situation was unfolding, all before he was colliding to the floor. Neither one of you could see the iron rod in your sight, your only hope was for the other two men were fit enough to dig up three graves. You knew from first hand experience you left all the heavy lifting to the boys, you were the brains of the operation. But you weren’t a stranger to getting your hands dirty in other ways. You weren’t afraid to torch a corpse or gut a monster when you had to. Even if it was a little boy that was trying his hardest to bring a knife to your head. Much as you struggled to fight off the kid, he proved to be stronger. The closer he got the knife to your skin, the bigger of a grin he grew.

You fought to get the little brat off of you, much as a struggle he was proving to be, but it seemed he was going to meet his fate in seconds. Just as you could feel the tip of the blade roughly against your skin, it only lasted for a split second, all before it was taken over by a rush of heat. Your eyes ripped open to see the little boy sitting on top of you had vanished from sight, making you realize the other two men had done it. They destroyed the bodies.

You and the boys pushed yourselves to your feet when you realized the day was saved by two very unlikely people. But push comes to shove, almost anyone could get the job done. Your only concern was getting out of this outfit and putting on your much adored jeans. Dean found the iron rod, still on the floor after his brother had dropped it. He thought himself for a moment before looking over at you and Sam.

“You know, maybe that guy was right.” Dean said. You raised a brow, wondering what he meant by that. “Maybe we should put these on a bungee.”

\+ + +

You always loved the mornings where you weren’t disrupted by alarms or a sudden jolt of thought knowing there was still work to be done. But the sun coming from the curtains you had forgotten to shut last night was becoming a real pain in the ass for you when it decided to shine directly in your eye. You rolled around in the hotel bed that was far more comfortable than any of the other mattresses you had slept on in other motels through the years. A few guests had abruptly left from the turn of strange events, leaving a few vacant rooms for you and the boys to snatch up so the three of you could get some sleep you had missed out on the night before. While you had fallen asleep right away when your head hit the pillow, you did a few things in bed before deciding to catch up on some much needed rest.

You turned around in bed so your back would soak in the rays of the sunny rays, you clutched the sheets to your chest, wanting to keep the warmth from your body heat from escaping. Dean had been out like a light. You didn’t know the last time since he had gotten a decent night’s sleep. The stress over the past several months had been weighing heavily on him as he tried to figure out what was the right thing to do, and like always, he wouldn’t speak a word to you about it. He thought he was being protective over you if he kept a few things to himself. It was one of the few things that you had grown to dislike about him. But there was a lot of things that made up for it. You loved every fiber of his being, from his brunt personality and sarcasm that got on your nerves at times, all the way down to every little freckle on his face. You bit your bottom lip as your lips stretched into a smile, the realization that this man, the one you spent almost every waking moment with, was all yours. He loved you as much as you loved him.

“You know I hate it when you stare at me like that.” Dean voice broke your concentration away from his face after you had been absentmindedly just memorizing every little feature on his face. He sounded annoyed at what he caught you doing. The man didn’t even have to open his eyes to figure out what you were doing, he just knew you that well. He cracked one eye open, showing off the vibrant shade of green that always made a smile spread across your lips, as the sun seemed to have made them brighter. Or maybe it was because he was lucky enough to wake up right next to the love of his life. “Morning, sweetheart.”

You mumbled a good morning as you leaned over to him, you placed a hand on his naked chest, letting your fingers graze the tattoo as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. You were about to pull away and get ready for the day, but he couldn’t help himself when he dragged you back into his chest, sinking you in for a deeper kiss that always made you melt into his embrace. But this morning you were feeling not to like yourself, the mood wasn’t there for you like it had been for him. Yet for Dean, it seemed he was always ready to put his hands all over you if you let him.

“Stop, stop.” You giggled out when you felt his hands starting to reach for any skin he could grab to keep you into place. He managed to give you another kiss before you could freely pull away from his grasp and to freedom. “Come on, you know I don’t look or feel my best in the morning.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic.” Dean said, rolling his eyes at you. “You look perfect.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Good boyfriends are supposed to compliment us women.” You argued with him as you playfully poked him in the chest. He tried to pin down your arms so you wouldn’t try and do that again. Instead you leaned down at him and placed one hand against the pillow he was laying on as you rested the other to his hand, letting your fingers intertwine as you gave him yet another kiss to satisfy him. "And I know you don’t have a cohesive thought until you’ve had at least two cups of coffee. I look like a bum. No need to lie.”

"You kidding me?” Dean asked you, seeming grow a bit annoyed at your pessimistic attitude this morning. You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull yourself away from him so you could take a quick shower and brush your teeth so he wouldn’t accidentally take a whiff of your bad breath. But Dean seemed to had different ideas for the both of you. “Come here.”

“I’m all smelly, Dean.” You complained to him. But your protests came out nothing more as a quiet laugh when he forced you to kick one leg over his body, making you straddle his waist as he laid comfortably on the pillows. You tried to sneak revenge in by fixing some of your bed head that was now looking wilder than ever, but Dean pinned your hands down, making you pout your lips. “You know you’re annoying as hell, right?”

“I think I’m adorable.” Dean said with a smirk. You peered down at him and rolled your eyes, but the annoyance towards him only lasted for a moment or so until you stared at him. Dean always hated it when you complained about your appearance, whether it be small or big. He wanted you to feel exactly as he did whenever he got the chance to view it up close and personal. Both of you stared at one another as the commotion settled down, and with a quiet voice, Dean spoke up again. “You’re beautiful no matter what time of day it is and what you put your body.” You couldn’t help yourself but attempt at scoffing at what he was trying to say, but he stopped you, deciding to sneak in a cheesy compliment to help boost your mood. “But I have to admit, seeing you in my shirts, I think it’s the second most sexiest thing you could wear.”

Dean released your wrists, only so he could reach up and start to slowly undo the first few buttons of the shirt you had stolen from the bedroom floor. His eyes always would light up with excitement at the chance of seeing your exposed skin, despite the events from last night. You looked up at him when he undid the third button as your lips stretched into a smirk. You knew what he was trying to do, and while you might have protested before, the man had a way of swooning you into doing it all over again. “And what’s your first favorite outfit, Winchester?”

Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position on the bed so he was now nearly pressing his lips against yours, his fingers were moving faster, and soon, you felt the last button of the shirt go free as the fabric slid down your arms. He dropped it to the floor, exactly where you had picked it up last night before falling asleep in his arms. You could feel his warm breath tickle your skin when he answered your question a few seconds later. “Absolutely nothing.”

You shivered in delight at the feeling of his warm palms touch your skin that was starting to grow cold from the morning air. Dean pressed his lips harder against yours, developing the kiss into more of a passionate one as your eyes slowly fluttered shut. No matter how many times Dean Winchester did the simplest of things like touching you, giving you little pecks on the lips or neck, and whispering to you of how much he loved you, it always made your stomach flutter with what felt like a thousand butterflies. You slowly felt yourself being pushed backwards to the comforter and sheets as Dean rested his hands against your waist, wanting nothing more than to show you over and over again of how beautiful he thought you were to him.

“God, I love you.” Dean whispered to you with his lips hovering over yours.

“I love you, too.” You said with growing impatience “Now shut up and kiss me.”

\+ + +

The rest of the morning before check out had been spent in bed, enjoying the time with Dean before it was time to hit the road again, back to the reality of a never ending hunt for the colt. And not to mention that pesky end of the world that was still nipping at the back of your heels. But you were still riding off the high of another job well done, with some extra help that you would have never guessed could be so brave. You and Dean walked down the steps of the hotel with the two men at your side, all of you approaching the chaos that had started since early this morning. Cops were surrounding the entire place as they questioned witnesses about what had unfolded in the events last night. Everyone had given the same description, a little boy dressed in early nineteenth century clothing with a rusty knife. While you knew the man’s death was solved, you had a feeling the cops would be scratching their heads for a little while on this one.

"I gotta hand it to you, guys.” You watched your step as you made it safely down the pavement of the hotel. You looked over at the two men with a growing smile as you stopped in your spot, away from all of the chaos around you, to give them an honest compliment that they deserved. “You really saved our asses back there.”

“Maybe I was a bit harsh on you, too.” Dean said, knowing his personal feelings about the books had clashed with how he treated the other two men. He gave them both a weak smile and apologized for his rude behavior. “Sorry for being a dick back there. So, uh, you know…thanks.”

You shoved your hands into your pocket and nodded your head in agreement with the Winchester. But you suddenly realized all of this time, you had been thinking of them only as the imposters of Sam and Dean. Never did you realize to try and put a real name to a face. “Gosh, I just realized something. We don’t even know your names!”

“Oh. Well, I’m Barnes.” Pretend Sam gestured to himself as he gave you a smile. He looked over at his friend, so he could introduce the man. “This is Demian. What’s yours?”

You looked over at the man standing next to you, both of you exchanged a few gestures, wondering if you should admit the truth like this to a couple of fans. They already had known ghosts were real, and it wouldn’t be long after they would start wondering if everything else had been real. So, you decided to just come out with it. “Y/N. And this is Dean.” You told them. “The real Y/N and Dean.”

All though you didn’t quite know what their reaction was going to be, you honestly thought they were going to get the connection from knowing exactly what you were doing to how angry you and the boys had gotten at seeing everyone trying to be them. Barnes snorted at what you had said, thinking you were seriously dedicated to playing a character as Demian thought you were messing with him. "Me too!” He said with a grin as he pretended to punch the older Winchester.

“Get the hell out of here, Y/N and Dean.” Barnes shouted as he pointed at the road.

You let out a few chuckles from their reaction you weren’t expecting. Sometimes it was better to let people believe in what they wanted, there was no harm in what they were doing. And the both of them seemed so happy doing it. “Well, anyway, uh, thanks.” You said with a growing smile. You looked at the both of them with a genuine gratitude. “Really.”

The older Winchester followed behind when you started making your way to the Impala through the thinning out crowd. You weren’t expecting anything else from the conversation, but it seemed Demian needed to get something off his chest, and change your mind about why the people here liked the Supernatural books so much. “You’re wrong, you know.” You stopped walking and looked over at the man, a little bit confused at what he was trying to say. “About ‘Supernatural.’ No offense. But I’m not sure you get what the story’s about.”

“Is that so?” Dean asked, seeming rather interested to hear what the man had to say.

“All right, look, in real life, he sells stereo equipment, I fix copiers. Our lives suck.” Demian said. You were a little conflicted about how living a safe life could be considering terrible, but the man wasn’t done talking. “But to be Sam and Dean…to wake up every morning and save the world…to have people who would die for you, well, who wouldn’t want that? And don’t get me started on Y/N. She’s my personal favorite character. And a lot of fans, too. Carver Edlund wrote her in a way that it can’t help but make you feel like you’re…her, fighting alongside the boys. She does a lot of things that you can’t help but think, 'Yeah. I’d do that if I was there.’ And Y/N makes me realize that I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was.”

You furrowed your brow from what he said next, but it was something that you would have never expected to come from this little book series that you had been growing to despise. It seemed Demian wanted to change your mind. “I mean, she was just a normal person like us. She didn’t grow up in the lifestyle like the boys, but that didn’t stop her, she was dead set on wanting to save someone’s life. She might have started off hunting as some scared nobody, but with each book, you see her grow up and become more stronger with each struggle. She evolved in this character that you feel…so close to. Like a good friend.”

"Y/N and the boys taught the fans something really important.” Barnes added in. “If they can continue on after facing all that darkness and pain, then so can we. The world might be a dark place, but it’s not terrible enough that we can’t survive to fight another day. And there’s people out there who love us no matter what. To you guys, it might be a book, but for us, it’s a little beacon of happiness in our lives.”

You were lost for words at what you heard from the two men, but your emotions did all the talking. Being a hunter wasn’t always the most fulfilling job. You put your life on the line for people who had no idea what you were doing. It was a fine art that you couldn’t brag about. But…to know the hunting lifestyle was being tossed off as some book series that people loved, and you as the main character, it took some processing to get used to. At first you were angered at knowing all of your private thoughts were put on display, as if you felt like someone had written a target on your back. But nobody here had a single clue of who you really were.

They thought you and the brothers were some great fictional characters they could look up to, someone that looked at all of your weakness points over the past few years as some sort of motivation to continue on made you feel something inside. It showed them that no matter what they faced, if you and the boys could go through hell and still survive to tell the tale, maybe they could, too.

“Are you…crying?”

“What? No.” You were caught off guard by Barnes’ question as you looked at him with a bit of confusion. He gave you a worried look from how you were reacting. You realize your vision was a bit blurry, and as a matter of fact, you were getting a little emotional. But you quickly covered your tracks and shook your head. You pretended to wipe your eye from some dust that must have gotten caught in there to make it water. But the few sniffles you added in didn’t help. You looked up at the man standing next to you. He gave you a bit of a smile, seeming a little bit amused at your reaction. “Maybe you got a point. I mean, you two don’t make a bad team yourselves. How do you know each other, anyway?“

"Oh, uh, well, we met online.” Barnes answered you. His lips stretched into a bright smile as he glanced down at his friend. “'Supernatural’ chat room.”

“Oh.” Dean said, not sure why he sounded surprised at how the two men met. “Well, it must be nice to get out of your parents’ basement and make some friends.”

“We’re more than friends.” Demain corrected the man. You watched as the two men reached out and intertwined their fingers together, making you realize they were romantically involved. You let out a noise of happiness as your lips stretched into a smile at the new found information. Love was love. And in this world, it was better to have someone at your side. “We’re partners.”

“Well,” Dean cleared his throat, not seeming to expect this sort of twist. He was happy for them, but…there was another factor he took into consideration that made him feel a bit uneasy. Barnes leaned down and rested his head on Demain’s shoulder, you gave them both a smile at how cute they were. “Howdy, partners.”

“Howdy.” Barnes said with a growing smile.

The mention of partners had the wheels in your head spinning again, making last night’s events before you had retired to bed with Dean come rushing back to your head. You gave Demain and Barnes a goodbye, wishing them good luck and to be safe out there. Dean was confused at why you were acting like a child on Christmas, but you told him to head back to the Impala, you had a few important things to take care of yourself that involved Sam. Becky had wanted to talk to him in private, and you had a feeling your plan last night worked. Y/N; skilled hunter, researcher, main character in a cult following book series, and now you could add matchmaker to your resume.

There was no denying Chuck had something for Becky, from the longing stares at her to the little bits of jealousy when she was hooked up on Sam. Dean had acted the same way to you when you and him were just hunting partners, and while you were too oblvious to see it, Becky was slowly coming around to the author. She had went off to you about how heroic Chuck had been at saving all those people and taking control back at the convention. It was undeniable her little crush for the younger Winchester was melting, giving you an opportunity you couldn’t pass up on. Chuck Shurley, “Supernatural” author. Becky Rosen, the number one fan. It was a match made in Heaven.

“Look, Sam,” You wandered around the hotel grounds, trying to find out where Becky and Sam were having their private conversation. You happened to hear her voice coming from not too far away, and out of curiosity, you peered out from the shadows to see the situation unfold. Becky stood in front of the man with a sympathetic expression, thinking this was going to be harder for him, and not her. “I’m not gonna lie. We had undeniable chemistry. But like a monkey on the sun, it was too hot to live. It can’t go on. Chuck and I—we found each other. My yin to his proud yang. We’re like Y/N and Dean. Minus the dying for each other…And well, the heart wants what the heart wants. I am so, so sorry.”

"Yeah, Sam.” Chuck said. He had been standing next to the woman this entire time, and while it might have been a bit awkward, he was happy at how things ended up. The guy got the girl, but this time, it wasn’t the handsome hero. “You know, sorry.”

“Will you be all right?” Becky asked the younger Winchester.

Sam had to pretend and think about the question for a moment. He had very brief interactions with the woman, but all of them were enough to know that she had a few loose screws up in her head. But he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Sam let out a heavy sigh, making Becky believe that he was heartbroken at what was happening, and not relieved at how he had gotten her off his back. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He answered her in a sullen tone. “I’ll just have to—find a way to keep living, I guess.”

“God bless you.” Becky said with a growing smile at hearing the news. She let out a quiet laugh, seeming happy herself at how Sam was taking the news, but she quickly let out a gasp of happiness at who she saw peeking out from the bushes. She waved at you and gestured for you to come on over, joining this very weird conversation. “Y/N! There you are! I can’t thank you again for what you did.”

“What,” Sam seemed a bit confused as he looked over his shoulder to see you heading forward with a small smile. You looked over the younger Winchester and let out a quiet sigh, knowing this situation was getting all sorts of strange, but he wondered what kind of magic you had worked to get Becky off his trail. “What did you do, again?”

“I only made these two lovebirds come to their senses.” You said. You looked over at the two with a growing smile as you playfully winked at Becky, knowing she had been all over this idea when you mentioned it. Sam seemed impressed at what you managed to do. But he dropped his expression when Becky looked over at him, knowing he still had to pretend at being heartbroken at the news of her dropping him for Chuck. "Oh, wait. Chuck, before the boys and I head out, I did some thinking. If you really wanted to publish more books, I guess that’s okay with us.“

"Wow.” Chuck mumbled, seeming taken back by the change of heart. “Really?”

“No, not really.” You said, destroying his little fraction of hope that blossomed for a split second. You smiled at him as you quietly laughed, knowing if he had any ideas of publishing what happened after you were freed from hell, he would find himself in your same predicament. Only he wouldn’t be saved by demons. “We have guns, and we’ll find you.”

“Okay, okay.” Chuck muttered underneath his breath. “No more books.”

Chuck would find something to help keeping his head afloat, maybe he could go a little bit of ghost writing on the side to make some extra cash. You felt a little bad about leaving the man without a proper income, but you couldn’t let those books be published, last year had been the worst time in your life. Nobody needed to read about your struggles with forming back to reality after being in hell for four months and Dean’s confession of torturing souls in hell as Sam dropped off the grid when he trusted Ruby and sucked down demon blood like it was water. All of you had your own personal demons that needed to be kept away, especially at a time like this.

You said your final goodbyes to the pair when Dean was still waiting for you back at the Impala, and knowing him, he was getting antsy at getting back on the road. You and Sam started to walk down the pavement that lead to the parking lot, but the both of you only made it a few steps before you were stopped in your tracks at the sound of Becky shouting on the top of her lungs.

“Sam! Y/N! Wait! One more thing!” You turned around in your spot to give the woman a chance to catch up with you as she ran forward. She looked like she was in desperate need of getting something off her chest, and you would soon realize how important it was. “In chapter thirty three of 'Supernatural: Time is on My Side,’ there was that girl Bela. She was british and a cat burglar. You remember her, right, Y/N? Didn’t she stay with you for almost a year when you both were teens? Your mom was getting all of the paperwork ready to adopt her, and it was supposed to be a birthday surprise for you. But everything changed when she figured out Bela made a deal to have her parents killed. Ella got scared because she didn’t want to get caught by Azazel for making that second deal. So she kicked Bela out, making her into the woman she was.”

"That is…oddly specific.” You muttered to her. “But, yeah, I know.”

“She stole the colt from you, and then she 'said’ she gave it to Lilith, remember?” Becky asked as she used air quotes. You and Sam exchanged a look to one another, not sure what Becky was trying to get at with this, until you heard what she had to say next. “Well, you know she lied, right? She never really gave it to Lilith.”

“Wait, what?” You questioned her with surprise.

“Didn’t you read the book, Y/N? There was this one scene where Bela gives the colt to a demon named Crowley, Lilith’s right-hand man—I think her lover, too.” Becky explained to the two of you. You furrowed your brow at hearing the demon’s name as you muttered it underneath your breath, wondering why it sounded so familiar. Becky seemed to have noticed your reaction, and as if she was a walking encyclopedia, she gave you the answer she gave you the answer that was starting to bug you. “Remember, Y/N? Crowley was the demon who gave your mom the second deal while she was pregnant for you. He was also the one who made the deal with you to take Dean’s place in hell. Black suit, red eyes. You thought his accent was nice. And he wasn’t a bad k—”

“Okay, okay.” You cut her off before she could say anything else that would make you feel a bit embarrassed in front of the younger Winchester. Hearing all of this was too good to be true. But it made sense that the colt would have fallen into the hands of a demon like Crowley. If he had a deep connection to Lilith like Becky had said, it would make sense if he made all of those deals to screw up your life to make sure everything fell right into place like it was supposed to. “Hey, Chuck. Didn’t it occur to you to tell us this before?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t remember.” Chuck said as he tried to defend himself to you. You rolled your eyes at his reaction, he seemed to be amazed at her amount of knowledge of the supernatural world she had thought nothing more as fiction. Suddenly you were regretting playing matchmaker to these two if he was going to make him a lovesick puppy. “I’m not a big of a fan as she is.”

“You wrote the freaking books, you idiot!” You snapped at him. Chuck looked guilty, knowing if he had given you this knowledge before, he could have stopped the wild goosechase that you and the boys had been on with Cas for the past few months. But you were starting to look at Becky a little differently, for she was about to be the one who might have saved the world from ending. You were starting to learn that people can be heros in all different ways. "Becky, tell us everything.”

Becky stared at you like she had been given the opportunity of a lifetime; her lips stretched into a toothy grin as her eyes lit up with excitement. She told you what she had remembered from the book, giving you every little detail that you might need to track this demon named Crowley down. Before you departed ways with her, she tried to give you her worn out copy of the book to refresh your memory, and much as you protested, you decided it couldn’t hurt. You were even happy enough to give her a hug, thanking her again for everything she had done. If it wasn’t for her, you would still be chasing your tails, trying to figure out how to ice the Devil. She couldn’t make a coherent sentence, but between her stutters, it seemed she managed to say goodbye.

You headed out of the hotel again with the worn out copy of book number twenty three of the “Supernatural” series. The cover was of the very Frankenstein’s monster looking man, who you knew as Dr. Benton, the man who operated on himself to learn the tricks of immortality. His days of practicing organ transplants had landed himself buried six feet in the ground, still alive as he pounded on the old freezer the boys had used as a coffin, with the added touch of a heavy metal chain to make sure he would never see the light of day again. You mindlessly flipped through the rather thick copy of the book, with over five hundred pages, there was a lot to read while on the drive to another motel so you could figure this out.

A small smile began to stretch across your lips as you looked up from the book and at the boys, who both had took their respective spots near the Impala. “Hey. Sorry it took me so long. Becky was chatting my ear off.” You apologized as you headed forward to the boys. You gave Dean a smile as you walked over to the left side of the car. He seemed to have been in a rather good mood this morning, you looked over at Sam, wondering if he had told his brother the good news, but the younger Winchester slowly shook his head. “Well, Sammy and I have a pretty big surprise for you. Becky is no longer a Sam girl. Her and Chuck are going off on their first official date tonight thanks to moi.”

"Really? Well, can’t say I’m surprised. Chuck was always the better choice.” Dean said. “He was always a snazzier dresser than you, less socially awkward. And she probably didn’t want to date someone that was twice her height, too.”

“Oh, stop looking like you’re sucking on a lemon, Sasquatch. It’s all in good fun. Some like dating a giant like you.” You said as your lips stretched into a smile. You crossed your arms over your chest and the book close to you for safekeeping. Looking over at the older Winchester, you gave him the good news. “You’re not gonna believe it, but we got a lead on the colt. And it seems like the real deal.”

Dean looked at you with surprise from what you came across, “What?”

“Long story.” You said. “We’ll tell you on the way?”

“What are you ladies waiting for?” Dean asked.

You hit him lightly with the book as your other free hand reached out to open up the backseat door, taking your rightful place as the boys slid back into their usual spots. Dean wasted no time in turning on the Impala, which triggered the music he’d been listening to before come on. You settled yourself for a long drive as you cracked open the book, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on some reading, and figure out how this Crowley figure had fit into this little puzzle.

\+ + +

“Like a lot of authors, I started writing because of love.” Chuck had tried his hardest to entertain the crowd while he waited for you and the boys to take down the spirits of three little boys that was threatening to scalp all of them. He stood on top of the stage, awkwardly trying to rattle his brain for topics, which lead him to this disastrous point in the convention. “Yeah, I had a huge crush on Nancy McKeon, who played Jo on 'The Facts of Life.’ I must have written her like forty or fifty letters. She never wrote back.” Cause that wasn’t creepy of him to do. He managed to get a few questions here and there were about the books, while he tried to answer most of them, he had trouble with a few. “I don’t think the Benders made flesh suits out of all their victims, so…maybe just like a couple scarves.”

When the questions wouldn’t come in, Chuck resorted to giving off some little known facts about him that some people…probably didn’t really care about. “Actually, my favorite movie was 'Beaches. Hillary and C.C. were just…so brave.” He might have started to lose inspiration at keeping himself on stage, but you and the boys were more than happy to give him a bit of a pep talk. Sam made a slicing gesture with his finger against his neck as Dean pointed his fingers that were shaped into a gun to the temple of his head. You pretended to hang yourself with a piece of rope as you stuck out your tongue. “So strong.”

“The way I look at it, it’s really not jumping the shark if you never come back down, you know?” Chuck wasn’t sure how he got to this point in the conversation, but the mention of the old phrase made him segway into the unpublished manuscripts he had hidden away at home. “Speaking of jumping the shark…how do you guys feel about a half brother storyline, eh?”


	10. Abandon All Hope.

“Do you have eyes on him yet?” You sat on the hood of the Impala with one hand resting against the still warm metal as the other cradled your cell phone. Over the past few days you and the boys have been tracking down the new lead on the colt, thanks to a very unexpected source, and book number twenty three of the Supernatural series. Here in black and white, chapter thirty-three, describes all about the three deals this demon Crowley was attached to. From the one you and your mother made, all the way to the one Bela made for a final chance at saving her own skin. It seemed this Crowley was more than just some right-hand man to Lilith, he was quite high up in the ranks of Hell. He liked to call himself the king of the Crossroads, as it was a prestigious title, he was one of the few demons that handled special deals to make sure everything was properly handled. “He’s a little shorter than you, British accent. Wears a black suit and a grayish black tie.”

On the other line was Cas, who had been trailing behind the demon since early this morning after you managed to pin down Crowley’s exact location. Finding out the answer was a little more easier than you thought it was going to be. You set the bait for a crossroads deal the other night with a hidden devil’s trap, and an hour later, she confessed about where her other boss was going to be. Crowley had a very important banker he wanted to personally visit, but since the man was having a bit of cold feet of commitment, he was allowed to think it over before meeting again. But a pretty face could make men do just about anything. The demon told you she was already sure the man was going to say yes. But instead of her, Crowley was going to do the personal honors of sealing the deal. And it wasn’t because she would be back in Hell after you got done with her. If you wanted something done right, you just had to do it yourself.

“Got him.” Cas answered you, after leaving you with a pause of silence that was making you grow antsy. You leaned farther back in your spot as a smile spread across your lips from how the plan was unfolding exactly like you wanted. The angel was quiet for a moment as he observed the demon in action, you took a moment to observe the backroads of the town you were passing through. “The demon Crowley is making a deal. Even as we speak, it’s…going…down.”

“‘Going down’?” You repeated after him, finding his wording a little more amusing than you should have as a quiet laugh escaped your mouth. Dean, who was leaning against the driver’s side of the car, looked up briefly from the book he was reading, you could tell he was caught up in the fictional world, and a little peeved at you disrupting him. “Okay, buddy. Just don’t lose him.”

“I won’t lose him.” The angel reassured you. You heard the other line grow dead for a moment and very faint sounds of shoes crunching against gravel. You suspected Cas was following the demon like a shadow, wondering where he was going next to celebrate a job well done. And it seemed this demon wanted to retire at his humble abode. “I followed him. It’s not far, but…it’s layered in enochian warding magic. I can’t get in.”

You thanked Cas for the help, telling him you would take it from here. You ended the call and shoved the phone back to your pocket for safekeeping. As you looked over Dean’s way, your lips stretched into a small smile at seeing him engrossed with the fictional world that was all his own. Ever since Becky had given you the copy of the second to last book in the Supernatural series, you had read it almost in two days to figure out who this demon was before discarding it to the backseat. Dean had graveled and complained about the entire series since he first heard about it a year ago.Not to mention the first ever convention you and the boys were able to attend thanks to Becky. While the man was pissed at everything that made his life into a book series, it seemed he was softening up to the idea as he flipped to another page, getting closer to the end. 

“Enjoying yourself there?” Your voice broke the oldest Winchester’s concentration away from the final few words of the chapter. He jumped slightly in surprise, acting like someone who was caught with a dirty magazine instead of a book, and the quiet laughter that followed from your mouth made him look at you with a slightly annoyed look again. “For someone who hated the book, you’re sure getting cozy with it.”

“I’m not. I was just…bored.” Dean tried covering his tracks by making up a small lie on the spot, but when you raised a brow at him, he knew you could see straight through him. The man looked down at the book he was holding for a second before shutting it, making sure to mark his spot for later before changing the subject. “What’d Cas say?”

“Good news, boys.” You slipped yourself off the hood, landing on your feet as Sam turned around in his spot after he had been previously leaning against the passenger side door and keeping himself occupied by observing the lake. Now he was staring at you, curious to see what you had to say. “We’ve got a lead on Crowley. Cas should be texting the location right about…Now.”

You reached a hand inside your pocket again when you felt the vibrations, signaling a new text message from the angel. A smile spread across your lips at how smooth this plan was coming along. The boys headed for the front of the Impala as you slipped yourself into the back, you wasted no time in calling up on old friend that was waiting patiently to start the next plan of action.

\+ + +

"Tell me again why I agreed to this?” You muttered the question underneath your breath as you kicked your feet out from the passenger side of the car and pulling yourself up without falling over like an idiot. You would do just about anything for a hunt, from going undercover numerous times and putting your own life on the line if it meant to save a few people from death. It was just how the job went. But you were finding this plan a little out of your personal comfort zone. You pulled down your dress one more time, as if it was going to stretch for your own comfort as you tried balancing yourself in the heels with a few more inches you weren’t used to so you wouldn’t fall in your face. “It’s freezing outside. And I look like a prostitute.”

“Yes. But an expensive prostitute.” Jo said, trying to be helpful as she stepped out from the driver’s side car and slammed it shut behind her. You gave her a look to show you weren’t even the slightest bit amused at her humor.

Both of you were dressed as if you were spending a night on the town, little black dresses that barely covered any skin and heels to match. Your hand brushed against the demon knife that was hidden in the holster strapped to your inner thigh to make sure it was safely hidden by your dress. Good thing Ellen was back at Bobby’s, because if she saw how her daughter was dressed, the boys might have a few things to worry about than the handful of demons lurking around Crowley’s private estate. Since you couldn’t walk up there and ask to see the demon personally, you needed to set a perfect bait to grant yourself access. What did all creatures have in common? They get stupid when they see a pretty face in distress.

You pulled down the bottom of your dress just one more time before Jo was slapping your hand away, telling you to stop fussing. You gave the woman another dirty look before you followed behind, both of you making the small walk to the house that was just up the street. Cas had taken a sweep of the place to give all of you a rough idea of the set up, while he could just pop himself to the front door, you were left standing in front of a very tall gate. Taking one peek up, you noticed there was a security camera pointed directly at the both of you. But you didn’t let that intimate you. Jo watched as you uncrossed your arms to press the intercom to get someone’s attention.

“Hello?”

You heard a voice come from the other side and it sounds American. It seemed Crowley didn’t like to be bothered with unwelcome guests. “Hello? My friend’s car broke down.” You explained to the man, making sure your voice was timid as you cross your arms back over your chest. Partly because it helped sell the story to the poor goon who was about to meet you. And it was so damn cold out here tonight. “We—We need some help.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” The man said.

You step away from the intercom as you turned around so your back was facing the security camera, giving you a chance to roll your eyes at how stupid this plan was. Yet a second later you were following behind Jo when the gate opened, giving you access to the property. The both of you walked slowly up the stone path, seeming a bit cautious when you watched two men head down the way you were coming, with a smile that didn’t make you feel their intentions weren’t to help a few people stranded in the middle of the night. 

“Evening, pretty ladies.” The first man greeted the both of you with a warm tone, you barely managed to return a faction of a smile. “Get yourselves in on here.”

“Uh,” Jo looked over at you with an uneasy look at the offer that seemed more like a red flag than a gesture of help. She glanced back over at the man as she responded with a nervous chuckle. “We just need to make a phone call.”

“You don’t need anyone, baby.” The man said with a smoothness in his voice, thinking tonight was about to get more interesting with a couple of pretty ladies to keep him company. He glanced over at his partner for a brief second before glancing over at you and Jo. “We’re the only help you two will never need.”

“You know what?” You gave both of them men an uneasy smile as you pointed a finger over your shoulder, gesturing to the gate as you took one step back. You gave Jo a look as you nervously swallowed. “I think we should just wait in the car. My cell phone’s in there, anyway. I can just walk around until I find a signal.”

You turned around on your heels without managing to slip on your ass, the only thought that is on your mind is getting the hell out of here. At least, you let the man and the partner think. His eyes turn black as he reached out a hand to grab your arm and try to yank you backwards. “We said, get your asses in here.”

A scoff escaped your mouth at how he was trying to take advantage of you, but before he could do anything stupid, a hand slipped underneath your dress to fetch out the demon knife as you turn back around to face him. You take the demon by surprise when you easily stab him in the chest, a hue of orange ignites in his body before you watch as he drops to the ground. His partner suddenly knows what’s going on, and when he tried to pin down Jo before she could run, the woman easily shook herself loose before pinning him to the ground. You take the chance to shove the knife into the demon’s neck and pull it out, letting him join his partner to the concrete. A little blood wouldn’t be too hard for Crowley to wash off. If he made it past tonight.

“Nice work, ladies.”

You looked over your shoulder to see it was the boys, Dean’s holding a duffel bag as Sam tossed you a pile of folded clothes. Mumbling a thank you, Jo took the duffel bag so she could pull out a pair of wire cutters. You kick off the heels, letting your bare feet touch the grass you moved onto so you could slip your jeans on and quickly change before joining the boys as Jo went her separate ways to cut the power. You left the dress and heels where they were. It was the one you had forgotten to give Bela back when she was still alive. The boys were a bit baffled at your plan, but you got dressed in under thirty seconds as you were getting on your shoes at the minute mark. Neither one of boys had the pleasure of having gym as your first period and your second class at the the other end of the school three years in a row. Changing fast was a skill was something that you actually found useful after graduating.

You and the boys snuck inside the house a minute before the power cut off, it gave you a chance to make a hidden devil’s trap and Crowley just a moment more of his luxury of living before he would find the tip of the blade shoved into his chest. You wandered down the dark hallway as the boys got ready, you made your arrival noticeable by tipping over an expensive and old looking vase with the tip of your finger. A small smile spread across your lips when the priceless artifact crashed to the ground, crumbling into nothing more than mismatched pottery. “Oops.” Was all you could say for yourself. You heard footsteps begin to trail across the wooden floors as you watched a shadow cross across the walls, the person approaching you was the exact same man you’d met once two years ago. A smile spread across your lips as you pointed the demon blade at him, deciding to be friendly with him.

“It’s Crowley, right?”

“So…Nancy Drew and the Hardy boys finally found me. Took you long enough.” Crowley spoke with a casual tone to the three of you, and with the same accent you remembered him having. He began walking forward to you with his hands placed in his pockets. You tighten your grip around the blade as you watch him stride forward, getting himself closer to stepping into the devil’s trap you had made just for him. But it seemed you had underestimated his smarts. You swallowed when the demon stopped in his tracks, finding something a bit off. He looked over to the left of him to see the broken vase, but that wasn’t the only thing you had messed with. Crowley noticed the rug in front of him was bunched up slightly. You glanced over at the boys when he decided to crouch down and flip over the rug, finding the trap. But it seemed he wasn’t pissed about the lack of trust. “Do you have any idea how much this rug costs? And that vase was a lovely gift. Shame you’re such a klutz, Y/N.”

Before you realized what was happening, the blade slipped out of your fingers when you felt someone attack you from behind and pinned you into place. It didn’t take much effort to realize Crowley had a few more goons at his fingertips. The demon walked over to a table and opened up the drawer, casually pulling out the colt and lifted it up so you could inspect it. “This is it, right? This is what it’s all about.” Crowley glanced over at the three of you to see the astonishment on your faces, all these months of hunting it down, and he held it like he was ready to shoot. It didn’t help that he decided to point the gun at the oldest Winchester with his finger on the trigger. But he seemed to have been in a helpful mood tonight. Crowley shot off three rounds in the matter of seconds, not at you or the boys, but the demons that were holding you. You step forward when you heard the body drop to the ground. While you were baffled at what happened, Crowley nodded his head at you. “We need to talk. Privately.”

You and the boys exchanged an uneasy look, still not sure what had just unfolded, but you listened to the demon as you followed behind first. The four of you walked down the hall until you stepped into another room, and from the interior, it must have been his office with a fire going to keep his cold heart warm on this chilly evening. “What the hell is this?” Dean asked the demon as he trailed close behind you.

“Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?” Crowley answered the hunter’s question with another. He stopped at his desk, and with a simple wave of the arm, he slammed the door shut. “There’s no reason you or anyone should know this even exists at all. Except that I told you.”

You furrowed your brow from the demon’s statement, “You told us?”

“Rumors, innuendo…send out on the grapevine.” Crowley explained to the three of you.

“Why? Why tell us anything?” You asked the demon, wondering what his motivation was behind all of this. Crowley listened to what you had to say as he pointed the colt back at Dean, seeming to be a bit more interested at practicing his aim. “You know, you might want to put that down. Or you’re gonna find a knife stuck in your throat.”

“Like mother, like daughter. Always with the threats.” Crowley mumbled to himself as he lowered the colt, you gave him a look as he stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment as a smirk spread across his lips. “You and I are reunited once again for a reason, darling. And it’s not about making deals. I know you’d like nothing more than to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face.”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” Dean said. He gave the demon a chance to tell you his motivation behind helping all of you, but it was still a little fuzzy. “And why exactly would you want the devil dead?”

“Not all of us are lucky enough to be a love child of a demon turned human and a infertile hunter. It’s called survival.” Crowley told you, but the answer was directed more to the brothers. You watched as the demon placed down the gun on the desk and stepped away. “Y/N maybe Lucifer’s shiny new toy, but at least she was born with a set of brains. I forgot you two, at best, are functional morons.”

“Yeah, you’re functioning…” Dean tried his hardest to throw an insult back at the demon, but he found himself fumbling for a proper response. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving Crowley the satisfaction of winning this petty fight. “…Moron. Mor—”

“Are you done? Wouldn’t want you to kill what brain cells you’ve got left in there.” Crowley said, seeming to find the man’s attempt at giving another snarky remark nothing but annoying. Dean nodded his head and allowed the demon to continue. “Lucifer isn’t a demon, remember? He’s an angel—an angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you’re just…filthy bags of pus.” Crowley said, trying to give the brothers a proper image as he reached out to grab his glass full of whiskey he was previously drinking. Your eyes wandered to the colt that was sitting at the edge of the desk, unattended. “If that’s what the way he feels about you…what can he think about us?”

“But he created you.” Sam said, but it seemed Lucifer didn’t have a sentimental attachment to his own handiwork.

“To him, we’re just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind…we’re next.” Crowley told you the gritty details. He wandered over to the other side of the desk so he was now able to lean against the wood, and just a mere few inches from the colt. “So, help me. Huh? Let’s all go back to simpler, better times. Back to…when we could all follow our natures. I’m in sales, damn it. I didn’t ask to be apart of this monstrosity. No offense, darling.” looked at him with a dirty expression, knowing it was pretty clear that Crowley didn’t have an exact idea of what he was getting himself into when he allowed your mother to take that second deal. A soul was a soul. But it seemed he was ready to bury the past mistakes for the bigger picture. “So, what do you say? What if…” The demon put down the drink for the colt. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him when he handed over the gun, positioning the handle in your direction. “I give you this thing and you go kill the devil?”

You stretched out your arm to grab the colt, but you stopped for a second, finding all of this a little too easy for your own personal comfort. You and Crowley stared at a moment, making him sense your hesitance. He pushed the gun into your hand, letting you wrap your fingers around the unfamiliar handle as he dropped his arm back to the desk. You glanced over at the boys for a brief second, all of you sharing the same amount of awkwardness from how easy this was. But there was one more problem you were facing.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?” Sam asked the demon, slightly curious if he could make this plan go a little faster.

“Thursday.” Crowley answered the man as he grabbed his drink again from the desk. “Birdies tell me he has an appointment in Carthage, Missouri.”

You mumbled a thank you to the demon for all of this information he was feeding you, and while he was more helpful than any black eyed monster you had met, there was still the insurance of silencing him if this ended up being a trap. Crowley couldn’t go running back to his creator if was dead. You pointed the barrel of the gun directly between his eyes, catching him by surprise. But it seemed the demon had the last laugh when you pulled down on the trigger, expecting a boom and for his brains to paint the walls behind him, but all you gotten was a faint click.

“Well…” You dropped your arm to the side when you realized the chamber was empty. “That was a bit anticlimactic.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Crowley realized he had emptied what bullets were left to the demons he once called his help. He pushed himself to his feet and circled around the desk to fetch the things Bela had given him. “You probably need some more ammunition.”

You were finding this interaction with Crowley a little weirder than you were expecting. You looked over at the boys to see the both of them were confused as you were. “Uh, excuse me for asking,” Dean pipped up, deciding to ask a question if this plan backfired in your face. “But aren’t you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?”

“Number one—he’s gonna wipe us all out anyway. Except for Y/N here. If you don’t want to be the only person left with Lucifer after he burns this planet to a crisp, I suggest you get these boys’ heads out of their arses. Two—after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three,” Crowley listed off the reasons, and when he gotten the biggest warning of all, he raised his voice to make the point clear. “How about you don’t miss?! Okay?! Morons!”

Crowley threw the bundle of ammunition to where Dean was standing, catching the man off guard, but he was quick enough to catch it. The older Winchester fumbled to opening up the leather pouch to see if it was the real deal, and it sure was, there was at least a few dozen bullets at your disposal. When you looked back over at the desk to see where the demon had gone, it seemed you were too late. Crowley vanished into thin air.

\+ + +

It wasn’t the end of the world just yet, but you were going to party like it was. You, the boys and Jo headed back to Bobby’s after a successful job well done. It was strange to have the colt back in your grip after so long away, but you were feeling more hopeful than you had been in a long time. You had been thinking about what it might be like to end this situation before it got worse, to have the only threat of a possible rupture, dismissed after the devil himself was buried back where he belonged. The kill would be better than anything you would feel. It might be better than when Dean put a bullet in Azazel’s skull. You would just have to wait and see tomorrow night. For now, on this Tuesday night, you were going to drink and be merry with the people you loved.

You leaned back in your seat as you stretched out your legs while you sat at the cramped table in the middle of Bobby’s kitchen. Cas sat to your left, Jo was to your right as Ellen sat on the opposite to where the angel was. The Harvelle women were nothing short of amazed to see that angels were real, and while almost all of them were dicks, there was one that you called a friend. The table was filled with empty shot glasses and a half bottle of tequila you picked up from the liquor store, along with six shots filled and ready to go. You and Jo watched as Ellen took her skills of running a bar for a few decades to the test. She grabbed another shot from the table, making that her fifth one in a row, and with ease, downed it with only a wince before flipping it so it was upside down.

“Oh my God.” You let out a slight giggle as you reached up to press the bottle of the beer you were drinking to your lips so you could take another drink. You were no means a light weight, but with the celebritorious atmosphere surrounding you, it made your attitude was coming off carefree and happy. “Who knew your mom was such a badass drinker, Jo.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. Before your mother got pregnant with you, she could drink just about anyone under the table. No hunter could touch her even if they tried.” Ellen said. You raised your brow as a smile began to spread across your face again. Ellen had almost never talked about your mother before, maybe because it was a touchy subject for the both of you. But it seemed she was more lighthearted about it from the five shots she just downed, it made you curious for more. But there were more important matters at stake right now. She looked at the angel sitting in front of her. “Alright, big boy. Let’s go.”

Cas was still learning about what it means to be a human, and while he had only one drink in his entire lifetime, he could follow example pretty well. You watched as the angel grabbed the first shot from the table and downed it, then the other…and the other…all before the five shot glasses were turned upside down. You felt your mouth part open slightly in surprise at how he was able to do that with little to no reaction, and while you asked him how he felt, it seemed he didn’t have such a high tolerance for alcohol as you thought. "I think I’m starting to feel something.“ He said.

You let another smile spread across your lips behind the beer bottle that you pressed against your skin, feeling the once chilled glass now feel warm against your skin. You shook the bottle slightly to feel that it was empty, meaning you needed another round, and making it only your third for the night. Pushing yourself out of your seat, you headed for the fridge and fished out one bottle for yourself as you placed it on the counter. “Mind grabbing me one?” You peeked your head out from the fridge to see it was Ellen. She left her daughter to try and test the angel once more with another round of shots. You nodded your head and fetched out a glass for her. She busied herself by popping off the tops like it was second nature before grabbing her bottle. You raised a brow when she reached out the glass to yours, as if she was going to make a toast. “You know, Y/N, I might have only known you and the boys for a handful of years now. But you’ve had a pretty big impact on my daughter’s life.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.” You said with a bit of playfulness in your voice. Ellen let a smile spread across her lips at the joke, you returned the gesture as you glanced over at the young woman for a moment. “You should be proud of her, Ellen. She’s a pretty damn good hunter. Takes after her mother.”

“No, that’s all her father. I’m just here so she doesn’t get herself killed.” Ellen said. She fell silent for a moment at her words, knowing in this lifestyle it wasn’t easy, as her husband had died on the job when Jo was a little girl. But the woman didn’t focus on it for too long as she continued on talking/ “She’s come a long way, that’s for sure. Ever since she took that first case with you and the boys, when she ran off and gave me a heart attack…she couldn’t get enough. ‘If Y/N can do it, why can’t I’? She kept asking me that over and over. And so I thought, why can’t she? Hunting is in your kids’ blood. Much as Ella and I wanted to fight it, we had to let you girls go.”

"Well, there’s a difference between my mom and you, Ellen.” You let out a quiet laugh that sounded more like an exhale of breath from the path you had took. “If my mother was still alive, I don’t think she would be happy I turned into a hunter. All that hard work and danger she put herself through, it means nothing now.”

“Y/N, I’ll give you a little lesson on what it means to be a parent. We’re hard on you kids because we want the best for you. I mean, nobody wants their child to become anything if it means they put their life on the life every single day. But at the end of the day, we’re still proud of you. And Ella would be nothing but pleased to see how you’ve come out. You’re smart and caring, not to mention a skilled hunter she would be proud of. And if it means anything to you, I’m pretty damn proud of you myself.” Ellen admitted with a quiet voice. Your eyes jumped up at her, a small smile began to creep at the ends of your lips from what she had told you. She was one of the last people you had in your life that has personally knew your mother, along with Bobby. “You’re apart of the Harvelle family, Y/N. Jo always says of how much she looks up to you like a big sister she always wanted, too.”

“Mom!”

A quiet laugh escaped you at hearing Jo’s reaction from the confession she wasn’t expecting to hear from her own mother. She looked a little mortified, but you brushed it off as nothing, you passed by her and ruffled at her hair, messing it up a bit to tease her. She swatted your hand away and rolled her eyes, but you could see a brief smile spread across her lips. You left the ladies and Cas alone for a moment as you walked into the library where the brothers had been quietly sipping their own beers and discussing the plan for tomorrow. You gave the both of them a smile as you stood between the both of them, curious to see what they were working on. Sam acknowledged your presence with a nod before continuing on with the conversation he was previously having with his brother.

“It’s got to be a trap, right?”

Sam’s concern was no laughing matter, but it didn’t stop the older Winchester from letting out a few chuckles at the irony. “Sam Winchester having trust issues with a demon.” Dean said. “Well, better late than never.”

“Yeah, and thank you again for the continued support.” Sam said with his own hint of sarcasm.

“You’re welcome.” Dean replied. You shook your head as you watched the both of them cheers on the bond between the brothers would never break, no matter what was thrown their way. “And, you know, trap or no trap, we got a snowball’s chance, we got to take it, right?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Besides, I’m not sure it is a trap. Check it out. Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with revelation omens. And look at this.” Dean laid out a map to show off different spots he marked off, along with bible passages that Bobby had found with Ellen. You grabbed a few pieces of paper after setting your beer down, curious to see what he found. “There’s been six missing persons reported in town since Sunday. I think the devil’s there.”

You flipped through the reports as you examined the omens for a brief moment. Everything here seemed too good not to be true, and it gave you a brief moment of trust in this demon Crowley. “Okay.” You said, a quiet breath falling out from your mouth when you felt another pang of realization hitting you. “Looks like things are shaping up our way, boys.”

“Look, when you think about it…I mean, what Crowley said about Y/N,” Dean grabbed his own beer from the desk for a brief moment to hold it. Your eyes flickered over to him to hear what he had to say. Your lips stretched into a frown in protest at what he was suggesting. “You guys can’t come with.”

“No.” You immediately protested. “That’s not fair!”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry, sweetheart. If I go against Satan and screw the pooch…okay. We’ve got a game piece that, we can take. BUt if you’re there…then we are handing Lucifer exactly everything he wants.” Dean said as he pointed a finger at you. “And we’re handing the Devil’s vessel right over to him on a silver platter. That’s not smart.”

“Since when have we ever done anything smart?” You questioned him.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” Dean warned you.

“So am I.” You argued back with him. “You and Sammy might have the title fight, but you gotta realize I’m the reason why Satan himself is roaming around the earth. Out of anyone on this planet, it should be me who puts a bullet in his brain. And haven’t you two idiots learn a damn thing over the past few months? If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it together.” 

Dean contemplated your plan, and while he was against it, he was starting to change his mind when you and his little brother stared at him with that stupid puppy dog stare. Sam had learned it from you when the both of you were little kids, and it worked no matter what. “That’s a stupid friggin’ idea…But okay.”

“Hallelujah! We got a breakthrough.” You slapped your beer to the desk, avoiding any important papers you might need. You forced Dean to move back his seat when you dropped yourself into his lap. Your legs draped a few inches off the ground as he moved you closer so you could rest your head against the crook of his neck. You inhaled a breath, and the comforting smells of Dean washed over your senses, giving more into the mood of tonight. As you let yourself melt into the man’s embrace, you found your eyes lingering over to Sam, who had been quietly watching the both of you with a little smirk at the end of his lips.

“Boy, talk about stupid ideas.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. You narrowed your eyes on him slightly at the joke he was trying to play. You always felt a bit awkward when you had gotten all romantic with Dean in front of Sam. You never wanted your relationship to be something that you rubbed in the younger Winchester’s face. He had a string of failed romances over the years, none of which were his fault. But the man had been nothing but supportive of the both of you. He could tell the both of you wanted some alone time, so he made up some excuse. “I think I hear…”

“Bye, Sammy.” You said with a playful wink. He pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the kitchen, leaving you and his older brother alone in the library when he closed the double doors for more privacy. When you heard nothing but muffled voices, you glanced over at Dean with a smile spreading across your lips. “So…”

“So…dangerous mission tomorrow.” Dean said. You found the end of your lips stretching into a grin at what he was saying. “Guess it’s time to…eat, drink and, you know—make merry.”

“Oh my God. Are you giving me the 'last night on earth’ speech?” You asked him.

“What? No.” Dean chuckled at the accusation. You tilted your head to the side and raised a brow, making him ponder a little more on the thought. “If I was…would that work on you?”

“I don’t know…But if I recall, it did work on you once.” You said as your voice grew quieter. A smirk spread across your lips at the memory while you took a hand to rest it on the man’s chest, your fingers kept themselves busy by making pattern on Dean’s black shirt he always seemed to wear. “Remember? You and I got into a huge fight when I thought I could go back to Hell. It was the first time I said I love you. And it was the first time we—”

“In Baby. How could I forget that?” Dean knew exactly what you were saying when he finished your thought, making his lips stretch into a smile. He looked around the library to see that it was quiet, everyone was wrapped up in their own personal activities, nobody would notice if you and Dean slipped away for an hour. You let out a slight giggle when he pressed his lips against yours, giving you a quick kiss. “Meet me in five minutes, sweetheart?”

You were about to agree with the man of his plan, but you found the mood being ultimately broken when you heard a voice echo from the living room. You let out a sigh as you pulled away from the older Winchester. "Everybody, get in here!” Bobby called out to everyone, breaking all of you from your previous activities. You and Dean forced yourselves to see what was going on as the rest of the gang trailed behind. You headed into the living room to see that Bobby had his manual camera setup. “It’s time for the lineup. Usual suspects, in the corner.”

“Oh, come on, Bobby.” Ellen complained. “Nobody wants their picture taken.”

“Shut up. You’re drinking my beer.” Bobby said. He positioned the camera exactly how he wanted, you joined the boys as they got themselves in the back, you squeezed yourself between the boys like always as the Harvelle women took your side, making Cas stand on Sam’s left. Bobby rolled himself backwards so he was in the front. “Anyway, I’m gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by.”

“Ha! Always good to have an optimist around.” Ellen joked with the man.

“Bobby’s right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil.” Cas said, reminding you of the challenge you were up against. “This is our last night on earth.”

You could feel your smile falter at the words the angel had spoken, and how real they were. This wasn’t a demon like Lilith or Azazel you were going up against, this was the Devil himself. The creator of everything evil and wicked, including yourself. There could be a chance the Harvelle women could suffer along with Dean, Sam could get himself exactly where Lucifer wanted him. You slowly drifted your gaze to the camera and forced yourself to smile when you heard the timer go off. And there was a grim chance you wouldn’t come out of this with your humanity left in tact if he got ahold of you.

\+ + +

Today was the day: doomsday. You sat in the backseat with the brothers for the drive that took almost all morning with the Harvelle women riding behind you as Cas decided to hitch a ride with them. Nobody said much of anything, except to make sure you had everything you needed to face an impossible amount of demons and their creator; salt, shotguns, demon knife, and most importantly, the colt and the ammunition Crowley gave you. While you had just about every single weapon all of you had, along with a few spares from Bobby for safety, you weren’t exactly sure what the outcome was going to be. Or what you should be even feeling right now.

You weren’t scared to see what might unravel in the next upcoming hours. But you weren’t restless with excitement at the thought of facing off with the devil, and watching as one of the Winchesters put a bullet in his head. You were just…handling the situation best as you could, trying the pessimistic at bay and the optimism of what might be from keeping your hopes up that this was all going to end with the devil being dead and the world would be safe. Getting revenge isn’t that easy, you knew that first hand. Killing Azazel took years and the brutal killing of your parents, the Winchesters and Jess before Dean finally pulled the trigger. The past year and a half of getting to this point was the worse situation you had ever been in. You just hoped all of the fighting and sacrifice would be enough to stop this before it could get worse.

“Anti-God is Anti-American.”

You looked over your shoulder to see the progress of where Ellen’s truck was when you arrived into town just a few minutes ago, but your eyes lingered to a billboard just across the way. It was huge, no doubt the size was so people could see it right away in this small little town to convey the message this was a God fearing town. You sat back in your seat and looked straight ahead. This town was abandoned, but no thanks to the big man upstairs. He could save them from what evil was lurking in these abandoned streets, but you had a feeling God was long gone to care about what his son was doing.

Dean told you and his brother to see if there was any service around here after he couldn’t find any on his phone. Which wasn’t a good sign for all of you. The result had been to roll down your window and try every which way to see if you could have at least find a single bar. But there was nothing. You sat back in your seat and shut your phone before it could get damaged from the drizzle of rain that was coming down.

“Great. It’s like Croatoan and War all over again.” You muttered underneath your breath, just quiet enough for you to only hear. You looked up from your phone and to the boys, who were trying themselves to see if you had any contact to the outside world. “Are you guys getting a signal?”

“No, nothin’.” Dean answered you. “Nice and spooky.”

Dean adjusted his handling of the phone so it was now placed back in his pocket, his free arm waved for the Harvelle women to pass through as he moved the Impala to the curb. You watched as Ellen drove a bit further until her truck was right next to the Impala. She seemed to have made the same discovery as you and the boys had. “Place seem a little empty to you?” She asked, you could hear the worry starting to settle in her voice.

“Sam and I are gonna go check out the PD.” Dean explained the situation to the women and CAs, who had been quietly sitting in the backseat for the entire car ride. You grabbed the duffel bag you had switched out from your clothes last night to everything you needed from ammunition rounds of salt and too much holy water. Before you opened up the backseat door to get out, you patted around in your pocket, wanting to make sure you felt the outline of the demon knife. The boys agreed on keeping the colt if you could take the knife if you had stumbled across an unfriendly visitor. “You and Y/N stay here—see if you can find anybody.”

You told the boys to be careful, a warning you always told them before they ventured out on their own. You let out a sigh as you walked to the sidewalk, allowing Ellen to park as the Impala drove off into the distance, and soon, disappearing from sight. You tighten your grip on the bag as you looked over at the car to see Ellen turned the key to shut off the engine as Jo wasted no time in getting herself out to join you. She looked around for a brief moment to see if she could find anyone herself, but her gaze spotted Cas, who was still patiently sitting in the backseat, and seeming not in a rush to get out. Jo looked over at you with a bit of a confused expression, you merely shrugged your shoulders, knowing that even after of knowing the angel for over a year and a half, he still did things that surprised you.

“Hey.” Jo leaned forward and tapped her knuckles against the backseat window to get the angel’s attention. “Ever heard of a door handle?”

“Of course I have.” You turned your head away from the car to see that Cas was standing in front of you and the younger woman. You rolled your eyes from his ability to jump wherever he wanted, always managing to catch you off guard. You were about to make a remark about how he should learn to act like a human being, but you stopped yourself, finding something off about how Cas was looking around town as his eyes squinted slightly, almost as if he was picking up on something that you couldn’t. You asked him what was wrong out of concern. “This town’s not empty. Reapers.”

“‘Reapers’?” You repeated after him. You didn’t like hearing the mention of a reaper, but it was the plural of the word that made you feel even more uneasy. As if you could see what the angel could, you cautiously examined the empty streets, trying to find at least a reaper with the naked eye. “As in one than one?”

“They only gather like this at times of great catastrophe—Chicago fire, San Francisco quake…Pompeii.” Cas explained to the three of you. You let out a slow breath, not needing to have a history lesson to figure out all of the tragedies could have been categorized with one thing in common. The death toll of human rates that reached from a few hundred casualties to an entire city being buried under volcanic ash and the debris of their once standing civilization. “Excuse me. I need to find out why they’re here.”

You weren’t exactly on board with the idea of Cas running off on his own, especially with no way of contacting him with service being down. But you had a bit of faith in thinking that maybe he could figure out what was going on without getting himself into trouble. You watched as he began walking into the empty streets and stopping every few steps, as if he was trying to observe something before heading off. The angel wandered all the way across to an old movie theatre after spotting something in the window. You squinted your eyes to see there looked to be an older man dressed in a black trench coat and pale white eyes that were haunting Seeing him brought a sense of warning to you. Maybe you had a bit of an advantage here with your other half, but this particular reaper caused something to be set off in you, a warning flag. As you directed your gaze to Cas, you had the sudden urge to capture his attention, but when you looked down at the street, he was gone.

\+ + +

You tore the place apart best as you could, but in the ten minutes since you arrived, there was not a single living soul in sight that you could find. You and the Harvelle’s decided it’d be best to head to the station to see how the boys were coming along. The entire car ride to the station had left you antsy, you were hoping that the brothers would have Cas at their side, but when they were waiting on the sidewalk with only themselves and the Impala parked, you could feel your stomach drop. Something bad was happening here, and your instincts were telling you the angel had landed himself in harm’s way without even realizing it.

“Station’s empty.” Dean said, giving you a bit of information that was an obvious fact from the state of this town. You stuck your head out from the backseat window to hear him better.

“So is everything else. By the way,” You wrapped your fingers around the cold glass to ask them a very important question that wouldn’t leave your mind, you were now hoping they were going to give you the answer you wanted to hear. “Have you seen Cas?”

“What?” Sam asked you, his reaction wasn’t exactly helpful as it was nothing short of surprised at what he was hearing. “He was with you.”

Ellen shook her head, “Nope. He went after the reapers.”

“Reapers? He saw reapers?” Sam questioned all of you. You watched as his expression began to change into a serious one. Even he didn’t like the sound of how this situation was coming along for the five of you. “Where?”

“Well, kind of…” Jo tried to answer the younger man, but she couldn’t be specific as she paused for a moment before giving a rough estimate from how he reacted. “Everywhere.”

Everybody decided it’d be best if you started on this adventure on foot to save the precious gas you had just in case you needed to make a quick getaway. And this town wasn’t that big. It wouldn’t take too long to find out that there was nobody here. You followed behind the group with your bag still hanging over your shoulder, but with an added touch of a fully loaded shotgun in your hand, just in case an unwanted visitor came your way. You weren’t sure what you to expect with abandoned towns, but you knew nothing good came from it. You’d seen people infected with a demonic virus you nicknamed it Croatoan that turned people from civil human beings to monsters that wanted nothing more than to rip your throat out. People got infected with the virus through blood. While you had to learn the hard way, it turns out, thanks to a nurse who got infected, you were immune.

The other situation that you had landed in not too long ago with Ellen had townsfolk attacking just about anyone after they were seeing black eyes. While you were lead to believe there was a mass demon possession, that wasn’t the case. You had met the first horseman—War. He decided to have a bit of fun and make people paranoid out of their minds. It was either kill or be killed, like the good old days. He was taken care of after you cut off his finger and stole his ring. You tried figuring out what was going on here, but you’d been here for less than a half an hour. All you knew was that people didn’t decide to skip town after they found out the devil was coming. It didn’t explain all the reapers, and where the hell Cas had wandered off to.

“Well, this is great.” Dean spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen between the five of you. “We’ve been in town for twenty minutes and we’ve already lost the angel up our sleeve.”

“You think, uh,” You looked over at the younger Winchester when he decided to try and give a possible theory to what happened to the angel. You roughly bit the inside of your cheek when you began thinking of what danger Cas might be in. Sam lowered his tone slightly as he shifted closer to his brother so he could propose a theory that only the two of them could discuss without any of you starting to get cold feet for the big fight you were thinking was still hours away. “You think Lucifer got to him?”

“I don’t know what else to think.” Dean admitted underneath his breath.

You found yourself beginning to trail behind on the group, your thoughts blocking your concentration on the situation at hand, as the pessimistic attitude you’d been trying to push away since you left this morning were beginning to become too bearable to pin down. You tighten your grip on the shotgun you were holding as you slightly turned your head, just a natural reaction you had grown accustomed to for hunting. It never hurt to check your surroundings to see if there were any enemies trying to sneak through in your blind spot. You honestly thought this place was abandoned without a human soul here. While you were right about that, you might have forgotten about the ones with a soul black as their eyes.

You turned your head to the side when you saw her again, the black eyed bitch you kept sneaking away whenever you tried to pin her down and stick the knife into her chest, Meg. You weren’t ever happy to see her. Jo had met the demon awhile back when she first started hunting on her own. It was in the form of Sam after she decided to possess the poor man and take you on her little adventure of slaughtering hunters for the fun of it. But she wasn’t the reason why you stopped dead in your tracks and forgot how to properly move. Meg felt her smile grow even more at your precious reaction, but it seemed the rest of the group didn’t realize she was gracing her presence, so she decided to make it known by making a vocal announcement.

“There you are.” Meg said with a cheery voice. She wasn’t the least bit afraid when she saw four guns loaded with rock salt pointing her way. Sam was the first one to recognize the demon, as he spit out her name with a venomous tone. “You shouldn’t have come here, boys. But I have to say, you’re my job a hell of a lot easier.“

“Yeah?” Dean wasn’t afraid of the demon. He wasted not a single second to pull out the colt and pointed the barrel at the woman, his finger on the trigger. The man didn’t realize she here to chat and say hello. But she wasn’t dumb enough to come to a gunfight empty handed. “Well, I could say the same thing for you.”

"Didn’t come here alone, Dean-o.” Meg said. You didn’t need to hear the spine-chilling growl to realize the demon had brought a weapon that was far superior to a little gun. You nervously swallowed as you watched one of the hounds closest to Meg put one paw out in front of him, everyone could only see an invisible force make a splash in a small puddle. You, however, saw every little detail of the beasts, from their sharp claws and teeth they showed off as they snarled at you. There was at least ten, far too many for any of you to fight off, even with the colt in your possession now. You didn’t even know if the knife could work and shooting rock salt at the hounds would be like poking a stick at a bear. It would only cause it to get angrier. “Hell hounds. I know how much they’re your favorite, Y/N.”

“Eat dirt and die, bitch.” You hissed at her.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t be like that.” Meg said. She pretended to be hurt at your words as the hellhound far to the left snarled at you, his lips snarling upwards to show off his razor sharp teeth to you. You quickly looked away to keep from the vivid memories of the night you were dragged to Hell from flooding back to you. “Our father wants to see you.”

“I think she’ll pass.” Sam said, jumping to your defense. “Thanks.”

“Your call. I’m just doing what I’m told. My father said he wanted Y/N alive. But he didn’t say anything about getting a few scratches on that pretty face of hers. So, what is it gonna be?” Meg asked as her gaze lingered over to you to make the final decision. “You can make this easy on everyone. Or you can make it really, really hard.”

You took a moment evaluate where they could be; one was still lingering next to Meg, your gaze followed another that was starting to get ready at pounce at you before going for Sam. You shifted your sight just quick enough to realize there was one for Ellen and Jo. Maybe, just maybe, if all of you were smart enough, you could get out of here without a scratch. And you had enough bullets in the colt to take down the hounds if you pointed them out to Dean. You had a feeling being half demon was starting to have an advantage in this fight. You slowly looked over at the man to see that he had been following your eye move. With the simple nod of the head, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to take your chances at fighting them.

“When have you known us to ever make anything easy?”

Dean wasted not a single second when he drew the colt away from the demon to point it at the hound. You heard the shot go off, wounding the animal just enough for it to be taken down, but that still meant you had nine other of his friends nipping at your heels. All of you didn’t waste a second before you were running for your life. You heard the vicious barking come from behind you, and it was getting closer than you wanted. Taking a second to inspect the situation, you noticed one of the hounds was going for the Harvelle women as another chased after Sam, the last one was dead set on you. As he reached up one of his claws to dig it into your skin, you aimed the shotgun and pulled the trigger, wounding the hound just enough for it to lag. You tried your hardest to start running faster, but it seemed in that moment, your mind decided to stroll down memory lane.

Your heart pounded inside your ears, it was loud enough to muffle the gunshots that were going off around you, but it wasn’t enough to silence the agonizing screams of pain that seemed to have come out of nowhere.Suddenly you could see it all again; Dean lying on the floor as a hellhound hovered over him, the hound’s claws viciously digging into his chest as he begged for the pain to stop. You couldn’t scream or cry, Lilith had made you a prisoner in your own body as you watched the man you loved be torn to pieces. All you wanted to do was for it to stop. You suddenly could feel yourself on the brink of being sick at the memory, and just like that, your legs seemed to have forgotten how to work. You stumbled slightly in your footing, and just that little lag, was enough for a sharp pain to pierce your skin.

You felt the scream that had been building up in your throat suddenly come right now when you felt yourself being thrown to the ground by an invisible force that nobody could see except you. You landed face first on the pavement, your shotgun stumbling out of your hands after the hound had nicked your leg just enough to make you fall prey to him. Everyone had been heading for a sport’s store that was just along the way, but your cry of pain had made them stop for just a second. You shouted at the top of your lungs for them to go on without you as you tried your hardest to fight off the hound before it was too late. You pulled the knife out from your pocket before the hellhound could sink his teeth into you and drag you away like a dead carcass to show it to his owner. Before either one of you could try and see who would win this fight, you heard a gunshot from the colt go off, wounding the hound.

Dean wasn’t going to let you fall behind, while the rest of the group headed for safety, he took his chances at helping you. You quickly grabbed his awaiting hand and pulled yourself to your feet, you tried your hardest to ignore the stinging feeling in your ankle as you made it to the safe haven Sam and Ellen had found. But it seemed you weren’t out of trouble just yet. Jo had strayed away from the store when she spotted a hound coming for you, and while she tried to warn you, it was too late, so she decided to take action. She raced forward to the two of you, and at what she thought was a safe distance, she took her shot at the hound. You looked over your shoulder to see that the hound was wounded momentarily, but it decided that for right now you could slip away, for it had another target on its mind. Your eyes widened in fear as you screamed Jo’s name on the top of her lungs to get back when you saw the animal coming for her. But it was too late.

You watched in horror as another hound came out from nowhere, and without a drop of remorse, he sunk his claw into the woman’s hipbone, dragging his nails into her skin and sending her flying down to the ground. As she cried out in pain and tumbled to the pavement, you somehow realized how to function as a hunter again. You pushed Dean away from you and snatched your shotgun from the ground so you could take a shot at one of the hounds that was tempted to make a move on you as his friend was about to attack again. Ellen had witnessed everything happened. You could hear the woman shout her daughter’s name with horror as Dean raced over to help Jo. You tried your best to fight off the hounds as you took shot after shot to get them to back off. Your mind only focused on survival as you backed dangerously fast to the store, and avoiding the trail of blood that lead directly to the store as you took off your last shot before stumbling inside to freedom.

Neither you or Sam wasted a second when you slammed the door shut and pressed your back against it, keeping the hell hounds at bay for a second as the younger Winchester reached to grab a thick metal chain. You stepped away so Sam could wrap the chains around the handle of the door and give you all a bit of safety. But it wasn’t safe here. Chaos was rising between everyone as Dean tried to gently lay down Jo to the ground and propped her against the counter as Ellen was following close behind. She tended to her bleeding daughter as you found yourself rushing forward to see how bad the damage was. You dropped yourself to your knees and tried to see how Jo was doing, but all you could see was blood. It was covering the tiled floors and Ellen’s hands. You shrugged off your jacket and quickly gave it to the woman, hopeful that it might help at least keep the wounds from draining out anymore blood if you could help it.

“All right, okay, okay. Breathe, breathe, breathe.” Ellen told her daughter as she pressed harder against the wound. Jo tried her hardest to tell the both of you she was fine, but she was far from it. She was starting to become dizzy from the blood loss as she was sweating, all of which weren’t good signs. “Boys, need some help!”

But they were a little busy right now. You pressed harder against Jo’s wound as the brothers grabbed whatever rock salt they could find, making sure to cover every single crack of this place, building a fortress that would keep out any possible threat. While you could hear the growling from outside slowly die down, their damage was still going strong in here. Ellen slowly moved your hand away, saying something about how she wanted to inspect the wound for just a second. The boys had raced straight forward when everything was done to see what was going on here. You swallowed and did what you were told, allowing your, now bloodied, hands to hover as Ellen slowly forced herself to lift her own to inspect the wound. You could feel yourself let out a sharp gasp of surprise at how deep the gashes were.

“Oh, God.” You accidentally muttered underneath your breath.

It was bad, worse than you had anticipated. Jo’s wounds were deep enough for blood to keep gushing out when Ellen took the slightest pressure off as Jo let out a whimpering noise of pain. You could feel yourself instinctively pressing back down on the wound again before she could lose anymore fluids. At this moment you needed to be strong and level headed, but when you looked up at Jo, who knew how bad her wounds were, you gave her a wobbly smile, despite being on the brink of tears. You told her that everything was going to be all right. Maybe it was for her to think there was a chance at getting here alive…or for your guilty conscience for leading everyone here.

\+ + +

You busied yourself over the past hour to help Ellen the best you could to help find all the supplies you would need for to cover her daughter’s wounds so she wouldn’t risk the chances of getting an infection or losing any more blood. Jo was stable now after you found some ace bandages and some clean towels that were soft enough to makeshift for medical attention she desperately needed. Despite being in tremendous pain, Jo didn’t complain, she just laid against the counter with her legs outstretched as Ellen did everything she could to ease the suffering best to her ability. 

You hadn’t moved from Jo’s side since you had gotten here, and while your legs we’re starting to cramp, you felt the obligation to stay by her side and tend to any need she might have. You kept her mind busy and forced her to stay awake by asking her how hunting had been with her mom and told a couple funny stories about Cas to help lighten the mood. Jo had gotten a kick at hearing about the angel’s attempt of losing his v-card in a brothel to a prostitute named Chastity, but it seemed he wasn’t smooth with the ladies. She tried to laugh when you told her about how the girl lost it when he brought up her buried daddy issues, yet the slightest shift in movement caused her to let out a wince of pain.

Sam had been around every once in a while to see how things were going and to check on the salt lines to make sure it was in check. Dean had kept to himself since all of you were put on lockdown. He searched around the store until he found a portable radio and some batteries to make the thing work. You looked away from the women as Sam headed over to his brother so the both of them could have a private conversation about how seriously screwed all of you were. All of you were trapped like rats as Cas was probably in the same predicament, not to mention, the Devil himself was here. While it was good to know this plan might just work out, the concern right now was to get out of here before anyone else could get hurt.

You were pulled from your thoughts at the faint noise of squeaking coming from the radio Dean had been tinkering with over the past few minutes. Sam wandered over when Ellen called out for a pair of hands that weren’t covered in blood. You glanced down to see that your clothes and hands were stained red, the sight of it made you feel another wave of nausea when you inhaled the deep rich copper smell. You pulled your attention away from the mess when you heard Dean speak, and even from your spot across the small store, you heard a voice that suddenly felt like music to your ears. 

“Bobby, it’s Dean. We got problems.”

“It’s okay, boy. That’s why I’m here.” Bobby comforted the older Winchester, knowing even with his voice strained as he tried to be hard, there was no denying the fear in Dean’s voice. “Is everyone alright?”

Dean paused for a moment when he heard the question. You watched as he looked over his shoulder to stare at the situation that had been slowly unfolding, he shifted his gaze to see that you and Ellen were doing everything you could to keep Jo in at least stable condition. While you had tried to remain optimistic that things were going to be fine for the woman, Dean had seen more of this lifestyle, and he knew a bad situation when he saw one. “No.” Dean answered as he looked backed to the other side of the store, turning his back again on the four of you. He tried keeping his voice hush when he spoke the devastating news. “Uh, i-it’s—it’s Jo. Bobby, it’s pretty bad.”

“Okay. Copy that.” Bobby replied after a second of silence of his own, needing to take some time to process the worst case scenario that was unraveling. “So now we figure out what we do next.”

“Bobby,” Dean muttered the hunter’s name as he tried his hardest to tell him what happened. He didn’t need to see her wounds to figure out this wasn’t going to end well. He had to pause again so he could force the words out of his mouth, but saying it would mean that this was actually happening. “Bobby, I don’t think she’s—”

But he couldn’t do it. Dean took his finger off the button and stopped himself. He stared across the room and focused on anything with his vision starting to grow the slightest bit blurry as he tried his hardest not to break down. He always forced himself to be the leader of the group, it was a role that came naturally to him. Dean would rather stay in charge so things could go his way. But with this situation, he couldn’t. He was pinned in place like the little fly trapped in the spider’s web. He was being forced to watch one of his closest friends suffer, and he couldn’t do anything to fix it.

“I said, ‘What do we do next,’ Dean.” Bobby said. His tone was serious as he forced the older Winchester to start focusing on the situation he was being dealt with. Dean let out a heavy breath as he bent his head down to rub his eyes from the stress. But like a good leader, the man sucked in his internal pain, and jumped back into the conversation. “Now…tell me what you got.” Dean told him the little progress that all of you had been making. The only lead you had was something about reapers Cas mentioned about wanting to talk to. But that had been what felt like an entire lifetime ago. “Before he went missing, did Cas say how many reapers?”

“I-I don’t know. He said a lot of things, I guess.” Dean muttered with a solemn tone. “I mean, does the number matter?”

You excused yourself from the little group when you tried to be of assistance for someone else when you heard Dean getting frustrated about how Bobby was focusing on something that seemed so little of importance, right now. But it was the devil in the details. You walked over to Dean and tapped the back of your hand against his arm, catching his attention. You nodded your head to the walkie-talkie to you could speak to the man. “Bobby, it’s Y/N.” You said. “The way he was looking, the number of places Cas’ eyes went, I’d say we’re talking over a dozen reapers—probably more.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Bobby said, you found yourself rolling your eyes at his response.

“Nobody like the sound of that, Bobby.” Dean told the man. “But what—what does that sound like?”

“It sounds like death, kids.” Bobby answered him. You furrowed your brow as you locked eyes with the man standing in front of you. Neither one of you would had a good feeling about this. “I think Satan’s in town to work a ritual. I think he’s planning to unleash Death.”

“You mean, like,” Dean tried wrapping his head at what he was being told. “This dude and taxes are the only sure thing?”

“As in Death—the horseman, the pale rider in the flesh.” Bobby said, being more specific.

You let out a quiet sigh from what you were hearing as you turned your head slightly to look at Jo from the corner of your eye. “'Unleash’? I mean, h-hasn’t death been tromping all over the place?” Dean asked. “I mean, hell, Y/N and I’ve died several times ourselves.”

“Not this guy. This is—this is the Angel of Death, big daddy reaper. They keep this guy chained in a box six hundred feet under. Last time they hauled him up, Noah was building a boat.” Bobby explained the situation to you and Dean. You heard him pause for a moment, as if he was thinking to himself. It seemed that he figured out an answer to a problem that was so little compared to what you had going on here.“That’s why the place is crawling with reapers. They’re waiting on the big boss to show up.”

The Devil himself and the Angel of Death all in one town. As if things couldn’t have gotten any worse. You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you shifted around slightly in your spot, turning your back on everyone so you could wrap your mind around what the hell was going on. You tilted your head up slightly as your eyes slowly shifted upwards to the ceiling. This…this was beginning to become too much for you to handle. You inhaled a deep breath breath through your mouth, trying your hardest to compose yourself. Dean tried lifting up the mood by asking the other hunter if he had any good news to spare.

“Well, in a manner of speaking. I’ve been researching Carthage since you’ve been gone, trying to suss out what the Devil might want there. What you just said drops the last piece of the puzzle in place.” Bobby explained to the both of you. You turned around in your spot to hear what the man had to say after you gotten your emotions under control for now. “The angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage. Now, back during the civil war, there was a battle in Carthage—a battle so intense, the soldiers called it 'The Battle of the Hellhole.’”

“Where’d the massacre go down?” Dean asked, seeming intrigued at this new information.

“On the land of William Jasper’s farm.” Bobby said.

You and the older Winchester’s locked eyes when you heard the exact location of where the Devil would be tonight. You shrugged your shoulders slightly as you forced yourself to give the tiniest bit of a smile, thinking this was the little fraction of optimism you needed to get through these next challenging hours. But you knew. You knew this wasn’t going to end the way you wanted.

This situation had reminded you of when you were about to go to hell, when you were trapped in your own body as Lilith took control, everything was about to get worse. You knew it was going to end. You found yourself starting to remember an old poem that Dante Alighieri had written about his character’s journey through all nine circles of Hell.

Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of Power divine, Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

\+ + +

What did you most about your life before hunting? Surprisingly, it wasn’t your home or the blissful ignorance of the supernatural beings that were around you. Or even the fatal path of your own life. It was your mother. You had learned so many bad things about her over the past several years it wouldn’t take much to hate her. She sold her soul to have you, but she dragged your father into the mess. She set you up for this entire scheme. Some might sight she was responsible for everything that was happening to you. Yet, you couldn’t get yourself to detest her. Your mother didn’t know the consequences she was bringing herself or you into, she just wanted to have a child. She wanted to have a healthy baby to term and live a happy life she never had growing up.

You missed your mother because you didn’t have that connection anymore when the panic settled in far more than you could handle or you got psychically hurt. There was nothing better than coming home from a stressful day at school and bursting into tears because one of your friends spread some stupid rumor about you. Or when you were little and riding bikes on a sunny afternoon with the kids in the neighborhood, only things ended with you accidentally falling off your bike and scraping your knee. There was nothing better than to have someone there to hold your hand as you cried your eyes out because you scraped your knee as you began freaking out, thinking your leg was going to fall off after a boy told you it was going to. You were five at the time, but your mother laughed off the silly lie. She told you everything was going to be all right as she bandaged up your wounds. No matter the situation, she could make you feel better at just about everything.

You wished she was still here so she could kiss you on the forehead like old times and hold you close, saying that everything was truly going to be all right. Because you were beginning to believe they weren’t.

With your hands clean of blood, you stood across on the other side of the store as you watched Ellen take care of her daughter the best way she could, by telling her that everything was going to be all right. You watched them from the corner of your eye every so often as you tried keeping yourself focused on the important conversation the brothers were trying to have, but your mind kept thinking about how the both of the women started to remind you of your mother. You furrowed your brow slightly at the thought of things being different for you. You wondered if she was still alive your life might have taken a different path, maybe she wouldn’t have shunned you away from the supernatural and allowed you to hunt. Perhaps she could have been supportive like Ellen, letting her daughter do what was in her blood. But her biggest fears were unraveling right in front of her very eyes, despite all of the reassuring words she kept whispering to the young woman.

“So, now we know where the devil’s gonna be, we know when,” Dean’s voice brought back you into reality. You swallowed slightly as your eyes adverted to the man, listening to the plan he was forming. All of it sounded perfect, but you knew the fight was just beginning for all of you. “And we have the colt.”

You let out a heavy sigh and shook your head at him. “Yeah. We just have to get passed…eight or so hellhounds, which none of you can see, except for me. Which is a good thing, I guess. Not to mention we’ve got to get to the farm by midnight.”

“Yeah, and that’s after we get Jo and Ellen out of town.” Dean added on.

Sam glanced over at the woman as he le out a quiet sigh, “Won’t be easy.”

“But it’s not impossible.” You told him. “We’ve got to do something. We owe them that.”

“Y/N’s right. It’s not like we’ve haven’t had demons up or ass before.” Dean agreed. He started to feel a bit more positive that all of you could brainstorm an idea that could get all of you here alive and the devil dead. Your three brains could think of something, and they had a secret advantage to the mutts that were circling around. “Stretcher?”

“I’ll see what we got.” Sam said, nodding his head.

All of you were about to go your separate ways to get the next plan in action. You were about to let out a shaky breath as the feeling of pessimism was starting to fade away, that was, until Jo’s voice caught you off guard. “Stop. Guys, stop.” You turned around in your spot to face the woman, your expression turned into confusion at what she was trying to do. You and the boys walked over to her, wondering what she had to say. “Can we, uh, be realistic about this, please? I can’t move my legs. I can’t be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta…we gotta get our priorities straight here. Number one—I’m not going anywhere.”

“Joanna Beth,” Ellen scolded her daughter for having such a thought. “you stop talking like that—”

“Mom.” Jo turned her head when she cut the woman off, she didn’t want to hear another lecture from the person that had been telling her what to do for her entire life. She gave her mother a look as she tried her hardest to be brave here. “I can’t fight. I can’t walk. But I can do something. We’ve got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails—everything we need.”

You should have seen this coming, and while you knew what she was hinting at, you tried playing dumb. "Everything we need?” You repeated after her, you could hear your voice growing harsher at what she was trying to do.

“To build a bomb, Y/N.” She answered you.

“No.” You hissed at her as you began shaking your head. “No, that’s an option here. I’ll take the colt myself and shoot those mutts and carry you out if I have to. You’re leaving here alive.”

“Those are hellhounds out there, Y/N. They’ve got all of our scents. Those bitches will tear you apart if you let them. And they’ll never stop coming after us.” Jo said, as if you weren’t clear on the point. You looked away from her as your jaw tightened, you knew she was winning this fight, but you were desperately clinging to any chance of letting her survive this. She deserved so much more out of life. And it was your fault for putting her in this position. You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard her voice break as she began speaking again. “We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, make a break for the building next over, and I can wait here with my finger on the button. Rip those mutts a new one.” She gave all of you a small smile, thinking she could have one last little smile before being blown to smithereens. “Or at least get you a few minutes’ head start, anyway.”

“No, I….” Ellen tried to scold her daughter, but her voice cracked as she stared at her with eyes glazed over. She began to shake at the thought of leaving her daughter behind as she carried on. As a mother, she couldn’t even stomach the thought without having a breakdown. But Ellen kept herself together long enough to scold the younger woman once more to try and change her mind. “I won’t let you.”

“This is why we’re here, right? If I can get us a shot on the Devil…” Jo tried to reason her argue, but none of you wanted to hear it. The brothers had an easy, they grew up in this lifestyle, they’ve seen more people than you could count. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea. You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest as you stared at her with a disapproving look. “Y/N, stop looking at me like that. We have to take it.” Ellen whimpered out a no as she tried again to fight this, wanting the same outcome as you, but her daughter stopped her. “Mom. This might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. You might want to take it.”

Ellen’s response was a few quiet sobs as she shook her head, knowing damn well, in the dark parts of her mind, this was how it had to be. You watched as she slowly pulled herself together, as there still had so much to be done if you wanted to meet the devil by midnight. She sniffled a few times as she gave her daughter a smile, deciding she was right, Jo wasn’t a little girl anymore. It was time for her to grow up and be like her father. “You heard her.” Ellen said with a strong voice. She craned her neck up to look at you and the boys to give you the command. “Get to work.”

You took Jo’s dying wish and you did it the best you could. It was a good thing that you had took shelter in a hardware store, all of the supplies were at your fingertips. You grabbed everything that Jo had listed. You shoved all the nails and salt you could find into a tin bucket as Sam worked on grabbing the propane and Dean worked on finding some wire along with a button. You let Ellen share the final moments with her daughter as you did all the work fast as you could. Building a bomb was easier than you thought, and under forty minutes, everything was all taken care of. You had all the belongings everyone had packed next to the back door for a quick escape. The boys lined up all the buckets around the front door and wired everything up so it was all now on a string of fishing line. But you wanted to be the one to hand Jo the button.

The boys comforted Jo as you threw out the wire careful as you could while working in a fast manner. You only had an hour and a half until midnight and you still didn’t know how long it would take until you got to the farm. As you slowly got farther to the end of the wire, you came to the conclusion that this was it. You swallowed as you let out a breath, trying your hardest to be brave as you faced the young woman. Sam stepped out of the way as Dean trailed behind, you ignored their stares as you crouched down to Jo’s level. You showed her the doorbell that you had found.

“Okay, this is it.” You managed to say with a calm tone. But you couldn’t help yourself when you stared at her with a guilty expression, thinking all of this was your fault. Jo looked at you with a smile, you gave her a wobbly one in return. “I’ll see you on the other side, kiddo. Probably not, though…and sooner than later.”

Jo reached down and grabbed the shotgun that was lying next to her and handed it to you, “Make it later. I’ll save you a spot.”

You nodded your head as you leaned the gun against the countertop for a moment. You inhaled a deep breath as you reached down to grab her weak hand, she felt so cold. While you had made the promise to be brave for her, you found it broken when your eyesight began to grow blurry as you explained how the mechanics worked. You glanced up from the wiring as you made eye contact with her, you couldn’t help yourself but let a few tears fall down your cheeks. In this hunting lifestyle your only friends you could call your own were the boys, that was, until Jo came along. She was younger than you, but she was sarcastic and a woman who could hold her own. You had worked together with her on a case where the both of you bonded, as you gave her inspiration to start hunting. You inspired her to do what she desired the most, but you landed her in a early grave.

With her fingers wrapped around the button, you leaned forward and wrapped your hands around her head as you leaned close to her forehead. You kept your sobbing to a minimum as you pressed your lips to her forehead, giving her a kiss for good luck. “I’m sorry.” You whispered to her as you let out a muffled sob you accidentally let out. You couldn’t help yourself when you started to cry in her hair, feeling responsible for what had become of today. You wanting nothing more than to just stay here with her in her final moments of life. “I’m so sorry, Jo. This is all my fault.”

You wanted to stay here, but you had other things to take care of. You felt someone wrap their hands around your shoulders, and gently, they pulled you away from Jo. You realized what you had done, and quickly, you pushed yourself to your feet and wiped away any tears that had fallen. Dean squeezed your shoulder as he gave you an empathetic look, knowing how heartbreaking this situation was. You inhaled a shaky breath as you began walking forward to the back. Ellen wandered over to her only daughter as she crouched down, wanting to give her final goodbye, at least, that’s what you thought. Both of the women stared at each other for a few moments, all though it was smiles, it soon became tears when Ellen shook her head slightly, deciding she didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay with her daughter.

“Mom, no.” Jo pleaded as she began crying herself when she realized what the woman was trying to do.

“Somebody’s got to let them in. And like you said, you’re not moving. You got me, Jo. And you’re right. This is important. But I will not leave you here alone.”

Ellen made her point clear. What could you say? Nothing would change her mind. You looked over at the brothers, deciding that this was it, you couldn’t change history. But your feet wouldn’t move, as you still were hoping for a miracle to say the day. "Get going’ now, boys. And don’t say anything. Just go.” You tighten your grip around the shotgun Jo had gave you and headed for the back door, but it seemed Ellen had one more thing to say. “And, kids…kick it in the ass. Don’t miss.”

You nodded your head at the woman, as you kept your composure together for her. There would be time to cry and grieve. But right now you the Devil to kill. You gave one final goodbye before you walked to the back door and swung open. Cautiously peering out to examine the sight, you drew the shotgun forward, waiting for something to pop out, but all you were greeted with was a dark alleyway, marking your next adventure.

You and the boys had only a few minutes to spare as you began walking forward to the fire escape. Hell hounds maybe strong and vicious, but you had a feeling they weren’t exactly capable of climbing walls. You used the adrenaline pumping through your veins to work fast as you could as you scaled the ladder with the boys hot on your heels. All three of you managed to get at least down a few stores in under a minute. You were anticipating for the blow every single second that passed you, but when it did, it took you by surprise.

It happened when you were trying to catch your breath, the explosion had came out of nowhere, sending you to jump nearly a foot in the air as you stumbled slightly forward. You quickly whipped your head over your shoulder to see the once standing hardware store be blown into a mess of smoke and flames of fire. You could feel a burst of heat hit your skin as the fumes rushed through like a breeze. You found yourself staring at the situation that was unfolding right in front of your eyes, almost like you were stunned, as if none of this was happening. But when you felt Dean yank you roughly on your arm to get moving again, you tighten your grip on the shotgun and turned around in your spot, channeling your emotions for something better.

\+ + +

It took you over an hour to get to the farm, but you still had a half an hour to spare. Plenty of time to stop the devil in his work. You quietly traveled behind the boys as you tried to find out where he could be in this massive amount of land. But you found him. You trailed forward to a tree with the branches parted enough to see right through what was going on. There was a dozen people just standing around, but it was the man shoveling in the distance that caught your attention. You had only seen Lucifer when he decided to pop into your head for the fun of it. Never did you have the chance to see him in the flesh for the first, and very last, time.

“I guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople.” Dean said, taking notice of the crowd that was formed around the Devil himself. You swallowed as you looked at Lucifer, who had no idea what was about to happen in the next few seconds. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath. He looked over at the two of you. “Last words?”

“I think I’m good.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

The brothers agreed that it would be better to keep this light and simple. You wanted this over and done with, you had spent too long being tortured by the angel on your shoulder. It was time for him to be buried in that ditch he was digging. “Okay, boys.” You whispered to them as you looked at the both of them with a serious expression. “Here goes nothing.”

Sam looked down at you, knowing this plan was only going to work if Lucifer had gotten exactly what he wanted, and that was the both of you—his vessel and creation. You gave him a small smile and nixed your head for the man to go first as you would follow behind. As Sam trailed forward, you were about to take a step forward like you planned, but you felt Dean’s hand grab ahold of your wrist, making you stop in your tracks before you were being pulled back. You turned around in your spot to see that Dean pulled you forward to him for a reason. You were about to ask, but before you could, your eyes fluttered closed when you felt his hands cup your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours. He was kissing you for good luck, or for the last time. 

You pulled away after a moment, a little breathless for how much effort he had put in, but you understood his worry. This might end up with him not returning with you and his little brother. “I love you.” He whispered quietly enough so you could only hear him. You gave him a small smile to ease his worried mind. “Be safe, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” You told him. "Don’t miss. Or I’ll have to shoot you and the Devil tonight.”

The little threat was enough to send a smile across Sam’s lips, knowing you were serious if Dean had somehow missed his chance. But you were confident in the man to do the job right. You let out a quiet sigh as you looked over your shoulder at the younger Winchester. Both of you smiled at one another before walking to your doom as Dean disappeared into the darkness, all of you unsure of what was going to come of tonight.

Lucifer had been caught up in his little gardening as dozens of his creations watched him, and politely waited for their command. He pushed his foot against the shovel as he dug up another pile of dirt, pushing it to the side. “Hey!” But he stopped when he heard a female voice echo through the night air. Lucifer quickly turned his head forward to the crowd, wondering where the sweet noise had come from. He squinted his eyes slightly to see if he could find the voice, as you appeared, his lips stretched into a small smile as you emerged from the crowd with another familiar face trailing behind you. Sam cocked the gun he had been holding, showing off that he wasn’t coming here without a fight. “You wanted to see us?!”

You stared at the angel standing in front of you with a devious look, all of the grief that you had been feeling not too long ago had transformed itself into pure anger. You watched as Lucifer dropped his shovel to the ground and walked forward to you and the younger Winchester. “Well, Sam, you don’t need that gun here. You know I’d never hurt you two.” Lucifer promised you as he kept his distance. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you heard the rainstorm that was starting to brew quietly start to thunder in the distance. “Not really.”

“Yeah?” Your lips stretched into a devilish smile at the sight of Dean, who had sneakily found his way to the top of the dirt pile. Lucifer had no clue there was the infamous colt pressed against his skull, until he heard the safety go off. The angel turned his head slowly to the vessel that would be for his brother. Dean cocked the gun with his thumb and positioned his finger on the trigger. “Well, I’d hurt you. So suck it.”

You heard the familiar noise of a gunshot go off as it echoed through the miles of empty land. You let out a faint gasp as you saw the body of Lucifer drop to the ground. It seemed almost too good to be true. You blinked, waiting for any second for him to come up, but he just laid there, showing no signs of movement. This was it, he was really dead. You let out a slight noise that sounded like a laugh, but you weren’t sure. The boys were stunned themselves at what had unfolded. Dean held the smoking gun, and for the year and a half that all of you had struggled, was the moment of victory. He stared at his little brother with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, he felt happy.

You were happy at the joyous moment that was unfolding right in front of your eyes. It did take sweat, blood and tears to get here. You found yourself looking away from the older Winchester when you felt something tickle your forehead, it rolled down the skin like a tear. You reached up a finger, thinking it was sweat, you had been running around for what felt like a lifetime. Of course you weren’t going to look pretty. You took a swipe of the liquid on the top of your finger and carelessly looked down at it. You furrowed your brow slightly to see the color was far darker than you expected.

Blood? Was that— 

The boys were starting to grin from ear to ear, Sam found himself letting out what sounded like the start to a laugh. God, he didn’t know when the last time he had the chance to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment without feeling guilty. All those months of sucking down demon blood and trusting the enemy than his own family. People had to fall before they could get better. Sam was about to say something, but it ended up being your name from what happened next.

He saw from the corner of your eye shift slightly in your spot. He turned his head just at the right time to see you tried taking a step forward, but you had twisted around in your spot, making Sam watch as your eyes rolled into the back of your head before you dropped to the grass. And just like that, the mood was ruined.

“Y/N? Oh, my God. Y/N?!” Sam desperately called out your name as he dropped to his knees, trying to figure out what happened. He tried shaking you to see if you would wake, but it seemed impossible from the hollow point in your forehead that was starting to leak out blood. He tried pressing two fingers against your neck to find a pulse, but like his biggest fear that was coming from tonight, there was none. You laid on the ground with a gunshot wound to the head. How the hell did it happen? Nobody just drops without warning. But he slowly figured out what might have happened.

Sam slowly looked up, his stomach twisting into knots when he saw the comparison at the body across the field. The Devil laid on the ground at his brother’s feet with the exact same wound that was inflicted on him. Dean stared at the sight with the type of expression that couldn’t only be the purest form of shock and terror from what had unfolded. It was unraveling all at once, and it was only going to get worse in the matter of moments.

The Devil emerged from death with a sudden gasp of air that turned into a groan of pain as his vessel’s hand brushed against the wound inflicted on his forehead that was causing a source of pain he had never felt before. But it was manageable. Lucifer pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt that clung to his jeans as he ignored the Winchesters, who were trying to wrap their head around of what the hell was going on. He let Dean stand next to him for a moment as he glanced down at the field, his lips curled into a frown at the sight he had suspected of what would happen if they had gotten their hands of something that didn’t belong to them.

“Relax, she won’t be dead forever. She should be coming back around…now.” Lucifer pointed a finger at your body, waiting for the miraculous miracle of you coming back to life once more. But you just laid there. “Well, guess not. I mean, she is half human. Might take a few more minutes.”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Dean hissed the question at the Devil. He swiftly pointed the colt back at him, wanting nothing more than to take another shot, but his hesitance kept his finger lightly on the trigger, not sure what might happen if he did.

“You boys still don’t get it, do you? She’s my better half, my creation—the reason why I’m allowed to roam free on God’s green earth and mingle with you…humans. But there is, of course, one little catch I never told anyone about that might ruin the surprise. Whatever happens to me, happens to her. You try to kill me, poor Y/N gets dragged down too.” Lucifer said as he pointed his index finger in the air. His lips stretched into a smile when he saw Sam stare at him with a face full of hatred as the man’s eyes glazed over. “I guess you could say the devil’s in the details. But that’s stuff we don’t need to discuss right now. What I wanna talk about is that,” The Devil his footing so he was now staring at the oldest Winchester as he nodded his head to the infamous colt. “Where did you get that?”

Dean didn’t have a chance to answer when Lucifer decided to seek a little vengeance. He swung back an arm to punch the man, but that wasn’t his true motive, he swung hard enough so the man went flying through the air, all before roughly hitting a tree. The devil smirked to himself at seeing the man that was to be his brother’s vessel knocked unconscious. He slowly shifted us attention forward to the Winchester that mattered the most to him, and that was Sam.

“Now, where were we?” Lucifer asked, seeming happy to see the two of them were alone. Sam looked horrified at what was going on, being alone with the Devil himself as his best friend dead next to his side, as his brother surely was going to suffer from a nasty concussion. All these months he had broke his back to stop him, the hunt to find the colt that surely was going to be the answer. Sam found himself staring off into the distance, defeat settling into his expression. There was no way out of this. “Don’t feel too bad, Sam. There’s only five things in creation that gun can’t kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I’m almost done.”

Sam watched as Lucifer bent down to pick up the shovel from the ground and takes a moment to scoop up two piles of dirt. The younger Winchester was conflicted on staying here with you, or going off to see if his brother was all right. “He is, by the way.” Lucifer answered the man’s thoughts. “And YOU'll be back around soon. I wasn’t expecting to be shot tonight, but you, sir, have given me the golden opportunity I was hoping for.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Sam never too his eyes off the Devil has he continued to dig back up a hole he must have been working on all night as his crowd of demons just stood there. “What are you going to do to her?” The younger Winchester questioned the angel with a harsh tone.

“Oh, nothing she won’t consent to. I just want to talk to her…as you, if you don’t mind. Give her a good image of what the future is gonna be.” Lucifer said. He leaned himself against the shovel as he gave the man a shrug of the shoulders, as if he was casually talking about the weather. “I don’t suppose you’d just say ‘yes’ right here and now? End this whole tiresome discussion? Talking to two people at the same time is a bit of a burden. But it’s my only chance with her soul in limbo. That’s crazy, right? The things I do for you kids.”

“It’s never gonna happen!” Sam yelled at the devil.

“Oh, I don’t know, Sam. I think it will. I think it’ll happen soon–within six months. And I think it’ll happen…in Detroit.” Lucifer speculated. He knew it was true, but it was fun messing with Sam, as he got under his skin to get the pure hatred out that he never showed too much of. The Devil continued to shovel a few more times. “And I think that’ll be the time Y/N’s humanity will crumble. She’ll turn into a demon and we’ll win this fight fair and square. I think we’ll make a good team.”

“You listen to me, you son of a bitch.” The younger Winchester hissed at him. He stared at him dead in the eye, wanting nothing more than to go over there and load the entire colt into his face. There had to be some loophole to kill him. He could bury him alive, chop him into little pieces. The thought of you getting turned into your biggest fear sent a rage through him. “You try and do anything to her and you’ll regret it. I’m gonna kill you myself. I’m gonna rip your heart out!”

“You don’t get it Sam, do you? I’m untouchable.” Lucifer said. He looked over at the man with a growing smile. Sam looked at the devil with an expression that was part pure anger, a violence in the man that was barbaric. And the other half was fear of what was going to happen when you woke. “That’s a little harsh, I suppose. But I know the connection you have with Y/N. I know it’s gonna drive you mad every single second for the next six months that you can’t do anything about it. I need that rage, Sam. I need to know that your best friend, the only person you’ve personally felt connected to, is going to turn into a demon if you don’t say yes to me.“

\+ + +

“Stars shining bright above you  
Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you”  
Birds singing in the sycamore trees  
Dream a little dream of me…”

The sound of music softly playing from somewhere not too far from where you had been lying made the ends of your lips stretched into a smile when you realized what was song was filling the silence. You let out a yawn and stretched your arms out, rolling around in bed, you laid on your backside and took up the entire bed, presuming you were going to get a muffled voice telling you that you were hogging up the bed again. When there was silence, you turned your head slightly as you opened your eyes to see there was nobody there on the other side of the mattress. You slowly looked around in your bedroom, taking notice that everything was in its rightful place, nothing seemed to pop out of the ordinary, except for the slightly opened door, where you suspected the noise was coming from.

Kicking your legs over the bed, you land on the soft carpet and begin walking to the bedroom door and opening it slightly to peek outside into the hall. You looked around to see that nobody was still there to greet you, the light to the bathroom is off. Sniffing the air slightly, you get a clue when you take a whiff of the freshly brewed coffee. You head downstairs and follow the smell all the way to the kitchen, passing by picture frames of old memories and furniture you had grown to miss. Being back in your safe haven fills you with a warmth that you haven’t felt in a long time. You feel safe, loved.

You peek slightly into the kitchen to see If anyone is around, but when you’re greeting with an empty room, your lips stretched into a frown as you head into the room. You walk over to the cabinet and fetch yourself a mug to pour yourself a cup of coffee as the music still quietly plays in the background. You stare out to the small kitchen window that overlooks the backyard and the sunny morning you were graced with. For once, you feel the air is filled with peacefulness, like nothing matters outside of this little world of yours.

“Say nighty-night and kiss me  
Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me  
While I’m alone and blue as can be  
Dream a little dream of me…”

Your lips stretched into a small smile as you found yourself singing along to the song, knowing every word by heart. You reached for the cup of coffee to take a sip, but before you could even put the ceramic to your lips, you felt someone’s warm hand take it away as the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so they could lean down and whisper good morning directly into your ear. You felt yourself letting out a soft giggle when you felt the sensation of their lips ever so gently began to press kisses against the crook of your neck. As you felt him starting to get closer to your hairline, you don’t waste a moment to turn around and face the man.

Your arms automatically reached out to wrap them around his neck, the height difference between you two was drastic enough. You gave him another smile when you had to reach on your tippy toes so your head can barely touch his chin. He let out a soft chuckle from your attempts of trying to meet him halfway. You wanted to give him an annoyed eye roll at how he found humor in this situation, but you can’t. Both of you slowly find the humor between you starting to dwindle as the silence falls between you. You found yourself leaning forward to the man, enjoying every single second of this feeling of being a couple, of waking up on a sunny morning with no worries to cloud your mind. You start to flutter your eyes shut when you began to lean closer for a kiss, as the music played softly in the background, the moment seemed too perfect to be true…And it was.

Something inside your brain seemed to have suddenly clicked into place, pulling you out from a mindset that felt foggy and out of touch from reality, like you were stuck in some vivid dream that you suddenly wanted to wake up from. You asked yourself for a moment of what the hell was going on here? Why did this feel so…wrong?

It took a moment before you began to slowly recognize where you were. While it had made you feel safe and comforted before, now it made you confused as to why you were suddenly standing in the middle of your kitchen. Slowly, your eyes drifted away from the familiar accessories that you hadn’t seen in months to the person standing in front of you, who was dangerously close. You furrowed your brow as a wash of realization washed over like a tidal wave, it dragged you down to the bottom when you recognized the face, and how wrong this position was.

“Stars fading but I linger on dear  
Still craving your kiss  
I’m longing to linger till dawn dear  
Just saying this…”

Your hands quickly placed themselves on the man’s chest as you pulled away from him when you realized you were about to do. You wanted him far away from you as possible when you slowly started to wonder how the hell you had gotten here. The man standing in front of you, the person you were about to kiss, was none other than Sam Winchester. He looked like the man that you had called your best friend since you were little. But for a small moment you had found yourself being lured into a strange mindset that he was something more. Yet, the person standing in front of you wasn’t that man, either. He could try and fool you with that expression which made you believe for a split second that everything was okay, this was natural. But you knew something was wrong here. Even he wasn’t the man he presented himself to be. And he knew that, too.

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be…“ You furrowed your brow when he started singing softly to the music, attempting to try and test his luck when he began to make small steps forward to you. But you fought back by tracing your footing backwards so he wasn’t anywhere near you. "Dream a little dream of me.”

“So, this is your newest trick, huh?” You managed to find your voice, knowing well enough the Devil himself was having a bit of fun here. You accidentally stumbled into the countertop you had forgotten that was even there, giving you no choice but to face him and whatever attempt he had to talking to you. He had visited you a few times in your dreams, as it was probably the easiest way to contact you, but it always had been in the vessel of Nick. This time, he decided to change it up, showing up as the one he thought he would eventually wear. “You decided to pop into my head to see what it feels like for something that will never happen?”

“Y/N. Sweet, little Y/N. You’re not dreaming.” Lucifer whispered your name as his lips stretched into a smile, as if he was trying his hardest not to laugh. You furrowed your brow in anger from his reaction that you weren’t expecting. “You do realize you’re dead, right?”

"What?” You face scrunched in confusion at what he said. You slowly looked away from him to look around the room, wondering if this was some trick he was trying to play with you, even though he prided himself on being only honest with you. But it didn’t mean he would keep true to his word, or so you thought. You began to remember, ever so slowly, of the events that had lead you here. All you remembered was being at Jasper’s farm, Dean with the colt to shoot the Devil, and that sweet moment of victory…all before everything went black for a moment of time, until you ended up here. You quickly looked over at the man when you realized something wasn’t right here. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I didn’t do anything. This is just the consequences of what you tried to do to me.” Lucifer tried to defend himself. You furrowed your brow from what he meant by that. But it wasn’t hard to realize what it was. "Your soul is currently lingering between Hell and earth. It’s a bit of a slow process to jump start you again. We don’t have much time, but I decided to pop in. Wanted to have a nice little chat with you, see if you changed your mind about saying yes to me. I mean, you would be saving me a lot of time and effort…Talking to you and doing the ritual is a little hard here.”

You scoffed at everything that was unfolding, to him, it was just some burden that was clenching his other plans. Your mind tried to slowly wrap around the fact that you were dead, again, and the Devil was talking to you in limbo like this was another Friday afternoon. “You show up as Sam and put on a little show for me, trick me into believing this stupid fantasy, or whatever you’re trying to do. For, what? Is this your attempt at trying to me say yes to you? Let me save you the effort for next time.” You said. Dropping your voice so he would get the hint, you looked at him directly in the eye. “It’s not gonna happen. You’re not getting Sam. And you’re sure as hell not going to get me.”

“Right. I forgot. You’re in ‘love’ with Dean, after all. Like that’s gonna end well.” Lucifer muttered underneath his breath as he rolled his eyes. You furrowed your brow, finding his actions strange, seeing as he was in the form of Sam, who was his true vessel. If he wanted to trick you, he could have easily showed up as the other brother. If he didn’t. “Don’t think I haven’t heard at what the other guys upstairs are trying to do, too. They think you’re gonna join their team, convince Dean to saying yes to Michael and live happily ever after when they win. I mean, you think it’s all about the boys, each side wanting them to say yes. But really…it’s all about you, Y/N. You’re the golden ticket for Sam and Dean to do what we want. You think they care about you like I do?”

You opened your mouth to give him a sarcastic answer, but the Devil already knew what you were going to say before you could even get the words out. "Don’t fool yourself, Y/N. I know my brother, and I know how the other angels look at you. You’re nothing to them. Just a little pawn in their game. Hell, those humans you surround yourself with don’t even value you as they should.”

“Right.” You said to him. “And the Devil may care.”

“A woman should learn quietly and humbly. Personally, I don’t allow women to teach, nor do I ever put them in position of authority over men–I believe their role is to be receptive. My reasons are that men were created before women. Further, it was Eve and not Adam who was first deceived and fell into sin.” Lucifer furthered his point by quoting from a book that was richly read from most of the God fearing population. He raised a brow at you, wondering if you wanted to test him again from the point he was trying to make. “What was that verse from again? Timothy 2:11. That’s just some of the things that you humans actually believe in, like it’s the actual word of God. If only they knew the truth about what’s gonna happen if Michael or I win…their precious God can’t save them, that’s for sure.”

“It’s not gonna happen.” You told him, with a matter-of-fact voice. “It’s never gonna happen.”

“Funny. That’s what Sam said. But I think it will, and much sooner than you think. I think it’ll happen in six months from now. I mean, your only chance at stopping was with the colt. And look how that turned out. I’m bulletproof.” Lucifer explained to you, he outstretched his arms as a smirk spread across his lips. You gritted your teeth and stared at him with a frustrated glare, hoping he would just vanish from your sight. But when you blinked, he still remained there. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Y/N. That has never been, and never will, be my intentions. You must understand that you can never stop me, Sam becoming my vessel will happen in the matter of months. You know that. But I can offer you a chance at survival, I could give you everything you want. You just have to help me get from point A to point B. That’s all I ask from you. And in return, I give you everything you shall desire.”

You keep quiet for a moment, making him believe that you honestly were thinking about taking his proposal. Lucifer took that as a good sign, his lips stretched into a faint smile, making him believe that you were going to say exactly what he wanted to hear. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we can’t kill you. Maybe all of this is meant to be. Or maybe, just maybe, this entire situation started because you were a little brat who demanded every single ounce of your Father’s attention.” You spat at him with a grim smile creeping at the end of your lips from the point you were cleverly making to get under his skin. “Had it ever occurred to you that God has love for all of his creatures?”

“If God loved loved humans so much, then why did he ignore your mother’s prayers? Or to the other seven billion people on this planet? If He loved us so much, he wouldn’t let us destroy the one thing left of his creation with the murder and pollution. If God loves us so much, why did He leave?” Lucifer didn’t seem to find your questions funny when he started to throw questions at you. Your smile faltered when you realized you had hit a very sensitive nerve in him. He took a step forward to you, making you automatically try to step back as he got dangerously close for your liking, but before you could escape, he used the younger Winchester’s height to his advantage when he outstretched his arms, boxing you in. You swallowed when you slowly looked into his eyes at what he said next. “If you think God loved us so much, why isn’t he here right now stopping me?!”

You found yourself taken back at his reaction you weren’t expecting to see from him, your eyes widened slightly at how he was staring at you as his breathing was coming out heavier pants. He stared at you with an expression that made you feel a bit uneasy, knowing that, despite of what form he came to you, he was still the Devil. And he was slowly starting to make you realize he was a force not to be reckoned with, unless you wanted something to happen to you when you awoke from another short trip with death. Lucifer inhaled a quiet breath as he stepped away from you, seeming to realize his actions were a bit uncalled for. Apologizing quietly underneath his breath, you slowly averted your gaze over to him.

“God might have jumped ship, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and watch as you kill innocent people.” You whispered to him. “I don’t care how long it takes me. I’ll rip your heart out myself and go down with you.”

Lucifer still wasn’t afraid of your threat, he looked down at you with his lips stretching into a smile, as if you were a small child that told him a story. “You try so hard to save strangers, but you can’t even protect the people you’re closest to.” Your lips stretched into a frown from his remark, you knew it was a cheap blow to knock down your confidence from previous events that you didn’t want to talk about. “You know why you still do things like hunting after everyone you loved has died because of you? It’s that pesky soul of yours. I should do something about it. It just…keeps getting in my way. And I think I will.“ Lucifer seemed to have been talking to himself now, his eyes drifted to your chest for a moment as he quietly thought about what he had in mind. You looked at him when his attention lingered back to you."I wanted to do this under different circumstances, and while I would rather have you turned all at once, this might work a bit better.”

You looked at the man standing across from you with a skeptical look as your brow furrowed tightly together, you had a bad feeling about what he was trying to say. But you couldn’t get the question out of your mouth fast enough. All you knew was that something bad was going to come of this. “I think you need to learn a lesson, Y/N. We need to chip away at that humanity until there’s nothing left. It’s getting in the way of what I want.” Lucifer said. He crossed his arms over his chest, but not before pointing an index finger to where your heart was starting to beat faster in rhythm. “I’m sure you’re gonna hate it at first. You’re probably gonna do anything to change yourself back to normal, that feeling will only be temporary. A few months from now you’ll realize this was the best thing that happened to you. And you’ll be crawling back to me, Y/N.”

"Whatever the hell you’re thinking about doing,” You hissed at him with hatred, despite how quiet your voice was coming out. You could feel yourself starting to shake in fear at the unknown fate he was hovering over your head. Lucifer just looked down at you, his lips stretched into a devilish smirk, showing off the younger Winchester’s dimples that made him appear far from innocent. “I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll fight it. I won’t give in.”

 

"Oh, Y/N…you won’t be saying that for very long. When I get done with you, I think you’ll be crawling back to me, begging for more.” Lucifer said, his voice dropped as he took a step forward to you. He outstretched his arm so his hand could gently cup your chin, giving you one last glimpse at the future of what would be before you revived. “You’re going to lose your humanity, bit by bit, and turn yourself into a demon like I want you to. You’ll learn soon enough that

your creator, I will make into anything I desire. You will follow me when I say, and make Sam say yes to me. All in good time. Now, I think it’s time to come back. Open your eyes, Y/N.”

\+ + +

 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.”

Lucifer chanted the words from the top of the dirt hill, his arms outstretched as he stood in the same position he had been for the past few minutes, breaking the silence that had fallen over the tense air. The brothers had been hovering over your dead body for what felt like ages. Dean had woken up a little after Lucifer had almost fallen into a trance, leaving his little brother unsure of what to do. All of you were cornered with no chance of killing the Devil like you wanted. While things were turning from bad to worse, it was only going more downhill. The boys watched as the wound in your head began to slowly heal itself, but you weren’t alive just yet. Sam watched with a careful inspection as the seconds passed by, knowing well enough of the threat Lucifer had given him before drifting off to another world. He clenched his fists when you listened to the command.

 

Your eyelids flickered open to reveal a color that was different, far different from what the brothers were ready to finally see after so many years. The moonlight coming from above reflected off the hallow color in your eyes, replacing the familiar shades each of them had grown to be familiarized with. They weren’t Y/E/C, and they sure weren’t human. Your eyes were black. Black as the night sky…black as your slowly transforming soul.

The inky black color only lasted for a few seconds until you blinked again, returning yourself back to normal. You found yourself inhaling a deep breath as your eyes grew wide after your body had kicked back into life again after being out for a few minutes. You jolted up from the ground and sat up, a frantic expression settled on your face as you slowly began to come back around, wondering what you had missed during your time out. Settling your gaze on the far distance of the farm, ever so slowly, you averted your gaze to the two men that had been watching this entire scene unfold. Neither one of you knew what the other had witnessed, but all three of you stared at one another, the same petrified expression on your faces from what was about to happen.

"And she’s back!” Lucifer’s voice made you painfully look over your shoulder to see that he was still there. But instead of looking like Sam, he was back to his old vessel. You could feel a pit of rage beginning to ignite in your veins at the sight of him just standing there with a smile on his face. He grabbed the shovel back from the pile and continued on digging, as if nothing happened. “Back together again. Like a big old, dysfunctional family.”

“What did you do?” You questioned him, but your voice barely came out louder than a whisper as you slowly began looking around at the sight which you had chose to ignore until now. Your brow scrunched in confusion at why he needed so many demons, and why he was spending so much time digging a hole. “What did you do to this town?”

“Oh, I was very generous with this town. One demon for every-able bodied man.” Lucifer said as he shoveled another pile of dirt into the hole. You forced yourself into asking about the rest of the townspeople, but you suddenly regretted it when you got the answer. The Devil stopped digging for a moment as he leaned against the shovel. He wasn’t standing on top of a dirt pile, it was a shallow grave. You felt like you were about to be sick to your stomach as tears began to slowly form in your eyes again at the unfortunate fate of so many people. “In there. I know, Y/N–it’s awful. But…these horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first.”

You let out a breath from what was unfolding, as if you thought things couldn’t get any worse. It was only spiraling more out of control with each second you let pass by. “I know what you must think of me, kids. But I have to do this. I have to.” Lucifer tried to explain himself to you and the younger Winchester, as if it was going to make things any better. You furrowed your brow in anger at what he said next. “You, Sam, out of all people, should understand.”

Sam took offense to the words, he looked at the creature, thinking he was nothing like him. No matter how badly he had screwed up in his life, nothing would touch the Devil himself. “Well, what is that supposed to mean?” The younger Winchester asked with a snarky tone.

Lucifer threw the shovel to the ground at the question. He took a step forward to the three of you, deciding to answer with a bit of truth Sam might have forgotten about. He was riding too close to the sun, he needed to come crashing down to earth. “I was a son. A brother, like you. A younger brother. And I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day, I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael…Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam.” The Devil knew he had hit a very sensitive nerve in the man from the look that was starting to settle across his face. It was pure frustration, anger. Partly because the words were true, as the memories he tried to bury started coming back to him. “Any of this sound familiar?”

It was the same story you had heard time and time again. You looked over the brothers, knowing well enough their story was too similar, but the both of them exchanged a look, Dean finding himself guilty at the remarks he had made at his little brother. He has been so hard on him over the years, it wasn’t because he was trying to please his father, it was how fate wanted everything to play out. So it could be easier for them when the time came.

“Anyway…you’ll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling. And I have a ritual to finish. Don’t go anywhere.” Lucifer pointed a finger at the three of you. Just because he had a few other important tasks to finish, didn’t mean he wanted the party to end so quickly. “Now that you could if you would.”

You let out a frustrated breath when you tested your luck as Lucifer turned his back on you. Your legs were forced to the ground, giving you the only option of watching as this sight unfold to the bloody end. He stood with his arms outstretched as he chanted something you couldn’t understand for a moment before turning back around to his quietly awaiting demons. “Now, repeat after me. We offer up our lives, blood, souls…” Lucifer began, and just a second later, his creations repeated each word in perfect sync. “…To complete this tribute.” The darkness ignited with a hue of orange as you watched each body fall to the ground, one by one, all of them fell like dominos, until there was nothing left but dead bodies. Lucifer seemed pleased with his progress, but when he noticed your lingering stare, and how much you stared at him with disgust, it didn’t bother him that much. “What? They’re just demons.”

Lucifer shrugged off your judging stares as he turned back to his awaiting guests when he felt the ground beginning to slowly start shaking. You felt the vibrations just a moment later, which you knew wasn’t a good idea. You looked over at the boys with a worried expression. All of you needed to get out of here before you could meet Death himself. But you were stuck to the ground. Of all the times you wished to have Cas pop out of the blue, this would have been the perfect time. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly turned your head to see where Lucifer had gone, but you saw someone blocking your vision, almost causing a gasp of surprise to come out at who you saw.

Thankfully you were quick enough to sink your teeth into your bottom lip as Cas was right next to you. He pressed his finger against his lips, wanting to keep the element of surprise for long as he could before Lucifer could find out. For the first time since you had gotten here, you felt relief, getting out of that hell hole when Cas put his hand on your shoulder, sending you far away from here.

\+ + +

You wanted to be alone. And not in the sense of another part of Bobby’s house, pretending the problems didn’t exist, because every single part of that house reminded you of the events that took place. The house was littered with shot glasses that you should be helping clean up. You wished you could just bury your feelings away like the boys. But you couldn’t. You were still…well, for now, you were still considered human. You found yourself keeping space from reality by wandering around the junkyard, observing old cars that were rusting out in their own special graveyard. You passed by a window and catch your reflection every so often. Your eyes were normal every single time you checked, just in case.

You tried numbing your mind about the events from the past day by feeling every single move you made, each noise that surrounded you. Everything about you felt normal, nothing was out of the ordinary just yet. But you felt like you were on the brink of a mental breakdown. While you wanted someone to help you understand what was going on, you were too scared to open up and reveal what Lucifer had said to you. What his true intentions were for you. You wanted someone that you could open up to without the fear of judgement, someone that was a bit like you. Rebelling against the cause that was once their fate.

Your thoughts were broken when you heard the sound of wings fluttering behind you, making you turn around to see who it was. A small smile spread across your lips at the pair of blue eyes that were staring at you from across the field. As if he could have read your mind, Cas returned the gesture with a weak smile of his own. “Would you like to talk, Y/N?”


	11. Sam, Interrupted.

It’s been three weeks since you have been brought back from the dead. Twenty-one days since the failed attempt at killing the Devil. You and the boys tried to keep yourselves busy over the past few weeks by taking hunts where you could try and keep your mind occupied. Most of the conversation between the three of you had been about the hunts, nothing else. Nobody had spoken about the elephant in the room. Nobody had the true guts to talk about what they had seen that night. And you were happy with that. For some reason, you didn’t want to think about what you had witnessed in that horrific day or what the Devil told you. It was crushing enough to know the only lead you’d been chasing for months was just a dead end. You were back at square one with the apocalypse still nipping at your heels. The pressure alone could make anyone go crazy. But that’s not why you were sitting in a doctor’s office of a psychiatric ward.

You sat in one of those uncomfortable office chairs as you sat with your hands neatly folded in your lap, watching as Dr. Fuller, one of the doctors at Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital, overlooked the documents you had forged and faxed before arriving this morning. He opened up the case file to read the bogus diagnosis you had given the younger Winchester. It was a fairly simple operation to getting yourselves into the hospital; Sam decided to be the one to take the bait of being the patient you were trying to get help, as Dean was his concerned brother that was fearful the man was getting worse. You reached out to rest it on the wooden armchair of the seat as Dean made sure to intertwine his fingers with yours, trying to sell the marital status between the both of you. Dr. Fuller glanced up from his paperwork for a moment to look at the two of you. You gave him a smile as you watched his gaze fall down to the wedding and engagement ring on your left hand before slowly going back to reading the paperwork for a moment.

“You were referred to me by a Dr. Babar in Chicago.” Dr. Fuller said. He raised his eyes to look at the three of you as he dropped the file to his desk. You nodded your head, not seeming what the problem was. “Isn’t there a children’s book about an elephant named Babar?”

“Really?” You laughed off the question as you smiled again at him. You felt Dean lightly squeezed your hand as he gave the doctor a small smile, joining in on your fake amusement of the situation. He glanced over at you as he gave you a subtle look, wondering why you had chosen a name that would have brought less suspicion. The doctor was right. There had been a series of children’s books with an elephant named Babar, they were your favorite growing up. It was late when you were typing up the documents, you were tired and the name just popped in your head. You honestly didn’t know anyone would make the connection. “Conidence?”

“I don’t know. My wife and I don’t have any elephant books. We don’t even have kids yet. It’s hard to think about just yet. I mean, we’d love to a few little ones running around in the near future. But we have our plate full right now. My brother’s been getting worse over the past year. We think the doc was over in his head with this one ‘cause he’s, uh…“ Dean attempted to swing the conversation back to why you were here. He pointed a finger at his brother before he twirled it into the air, making a quiet whistle noise to prove that he thought the man was a bit mental.

“Okay, fine. Thank you. That’s—That’s really not necessary.” Dr. Fuller stopped the man, finding his actions inappropriate for the setting he was in. He reached out and picked up the file to read over the diagnosis just one more time. Glancing up at the younger Winchester, he decided to get a bit more of a proper viewing of what he could be dealing with. “Why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling, Alex?”

"I’m fine.” Sam said as he let out a frustrated sigh, making the doctor believe he was dragged here against his will. You turned your head and placed your free hand on his forearm. He scoffed when you attempted to give him a concerned look, playing the part perfectly as he looked back over at the doctor that sat behind the desk. "I mean, okay, a little depressed, I guess.“

“All right.” Dr. Fuller said, he jotted a few notes down. “Any idea why?”

"Probably because I started the apocalypse.” Sam said, deciding the truth was the best form of crazy either one of you could get that. Dr. Fuller glanced up from his paperwork, caught off guard from what he heard. He repeated what the man said, wondering what he meant by that exactly. The doctor looked over at you and Dean, slightly confused at what he was hearing, Dean rolled his eyes, as if he was annoyed at the same story as you gave the man an apologetic smile from the complicated case you were giving him. “Well, yeah. I mean I killed this demon—Lilith—and I accidentally freed Lucifer from Hell. So now he’s topside, and we’re trying to stop him.”

“Who is?” The doctor asked.

“Me. And them.” Sam answered as he pointed a finger at the both of you for clarification. “And, uh, this one angel.”

“Oh. You mean like a—like an angel on your shoulder?” Dr. Fuller presumed as he tapped his pen on his shoulder, wondering that was what the younger man meant.

“No.” Sam said. “His name is Castiel. He wears a trench coat.”

“See what I mean, doc? I mean, the kid’s been beating himself up about this for months. The apocalypse wasn’t his fault.” Dean said, deciding it was the perfect time to jump in on the little act. The doctor glanced up from his paper to give the man a slightly bewildered look, asking why that it wasn’t. “There was this other demon—Ruby. She got him addicted to demon blood. I mean, near the end, he was practically chugging the stuff. And there was this one time she convinced him to give her a shot of the stuff.” The Winchester pointed his thumb at you as he continued on telling the story. “You see, at the time we were interrogating this other demon, Alistair. Nasty son of a bitch. Everything seemed to be going well, until, he got loose and started beating the crap out of us. She landed herself in the hospital and we didn’t know if she was going to make it. Ruby convinced Sam to give her some of her own blood to heal her. Which was what Lilith wanted all along.”

"Yeah. You see, Lilith had spent all of last year trying to break these sixty six seals that broke Lucifer out of the cage in the first place. We tried to stop her after she sent us both to hell the year prior. He made a deal to save his brother’s life after he was stabbed. I sold my soul to this demon named Crowley to take his spot. But it didn’t work.” You explained to the doctor. “Him and I went to Hell, but after four months, we both got out for different reasons. Cas pulled Dean out because

broke the first seal. I got freed because my dad, who’s a demon himself, made a deal with Alistair along with not having any memories of being tortured in Hell. Lilith tracked me down, force fed me her blood, and I remembered everything. Not fun, trust me.”

“Kind of put a damper in our relationship for a while, but I like to think we’re stronger now.” Dean said to the doctor. He looked over at you to give you a smile, knowing last year had been a rough time for the both of you. But you had to admit, things between the both of you had never been better, despite the things he had seen weeks ago. “Right, sweetheart?”

“Wait, wait.” The doctor stopped you before you could say anything, wanting to jump back to a small detail that you slipped into the conversation. “You said your father was a demon?”

“Yup. She’s a half demon, my brother and I are the meat suit for Michael and Lucifer. Some could say that this entire situation was all his fault. I mean, yeah he made some pretty stupid decisions, but that wasn’t him. He’s not evil like he thinks that he is. He was just…high.“ Dean explained the rest of the situation to the doctor. You fidgeted slightly in your seat as he continued on talking. “So, could you fix him up so we can get back traveling around the country and hunting monsters?”

Dr. Fuller gave all of you a polite smile as he pointed his index finger at the three of you. You didn’t need to say anything else for the man to be convinced that you needed help. He reached out to grab his phone and pressed it against his ear, pressing a button, he waited a second before he was connected with his receptionist, thinking he was going to have his hands full for the rest of the day. “Erma…cancel my lunch.”

A few minutes later, you and the boys were being lead down a hallway of the hospital by a nurse who was directing you to a few of the examination rooms to do a quick psychical. “Dr. Fuller would like to keep the three of you under observation for a couple of days.” She explained to all of you as she looked over her shoulder to give you a smile. Dean pretended to be surprised at the news as he asked if she meant by you and him. “Yes, sugar. The doctor thinks that would be best.”

You and the boys were directed to separate examination rooms so the nurse would assess your physical health along with asking a few questions that were standard to get a deeper peek into your mental health. In under a half an hour you surrounded over your clothing for a comfortable pair of slippers, some pajamas and a robe that all of the patients were directed to wear. You felt a little weird about being this honest with strangers when you told them about the mess you had been dealing with for the past few years. To them, you were just another patient, but they listened and smiled, making you believe that what you were saying was all true. The nurse directed you to the recreation room where a few other patients had been occupying. You glanced around to see if you could spot the boys. It took a second to see Dean, who was sitting on top of one of the couches with his arms crossed over his chest, looking a little uncomfortable.

Sam wasn’t far behind you, you looked over to see that he was heading forward to the both of you. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering why he was walking so weird. “Hey,” Dean’s voice brought your attention over to him when he noticed you and his little brother had arrived back after getting acquainted with the place. “How was your silkwood shower?”

"Okay. Yeah. Good. Yeah. Good, um…good water pressure.” Sam tried to sound normal. But he couldn’t beat around the bush anymore when he asked, “Did the nurse—”

“She was very thorough.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

You let out a quiet laugh from their reaction of the examine that had become a little too unbearable for them to handle. “What did you guys expect to happen?” You asked. You looked at the both of them before you rolled your eyes. “They do it for safety reasons so you don’t bring in anything that you might use to hurt yourself or others.”

Dean didn’t seem to find your words comforting, he took a moment to look around at the place to see what he would be dealing with over the next few days. He could see most of the patients here were a bunch of loons and drugged out of their minds. One was passed out on the table as another was playing with a bunny, who looked like she was having the time of her life. He shook his head and he scoffed underneath his breath, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“You didn’t have to come, Dean.” You flat out said, not in the mood to hear his bellyaching on this hunt about the stunts he was going to have to pull for a case that might not be even be here. You examined the room yourself, but unlike the oldest Winchester, you harbored no judgement for the people around you that were here to help. When you glanced over at him, you rolled your eyes at the expression he was giving you from the response he wasn’t expecting to hear. “Don’t look at me like that. Sam and I could have done this without your help. But you insisted.”

“Touchy, touchy. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning, sweetheart?” Dean asked you. You gave him a look from the question that was nothing short of sarcasm, like he was just trying to test his luck at pushing all of your buttons without realizing it. For some reason, over the past few weeks, you’d been in a mood that nothing could quite take the edge off. You blamed it on the stress you had been feeling over the past few weeks. “I’m just saying how I feel. That’s all.”

“Well,” You scoffed quietly underneath your breath at his response. “That’s a first.”

“Guys, come on.” Sam snapped the both of you out of a possible argument that might stir up some trouble with the staff. You crossed your arms over your chest and said nothing more, knowing you might regret what came out of your mouth next if Dean kept talking. “It’s the least we could do. Martin saved Dad’s ass more times than we can count. He’s a great hunter.”

“Was.” Dean corrected the younger man. “Until Albuquerque.”

“Besides, I-I think it’s be best to keep busy. That’s all.” Sam said, changing the subject slightly. You looked over at him with a bit of a skeptical look, wondering what he meant by that, and why he was looking over at you with a concerned expression. It seemed the mood shifted between the boys, you asked them what was going on between the both of them, Sam let out a quiet sigh, deciding to be the one who break the ice on the topic everyone had been trying to avoid. “Okay, look—uh…Last few weeks, you’ve been kind of worrying us, Y/N.”

“Oh, guys. Come on.” You mumbled as you shook your head, wondering why they had chosen now to try and ask how you were feeling. “Look, just because we’re in a psychiatric hospital doesn’t mean you two need to go all Freud on me.”

“Y/N,” Sam tried his hardest to get you to change your mind about opening up as he gave you his puppy dog eyes, wanting to make it clear that he was just trying to look out for you. “Don’t shut us out. We just want to talk.”

“What is there to talk about? I’m fine, guys. Really.” You told them, adding the effort to even given them a little bit of a convincing smile to get them to back off a bit. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

You wanted to leave the conversation at that as you tried walking away from them and to another part of the room, but Dean wasn’t having it. He reached out and grabbed you lightly on the wrist, pulling you back to them. You gave him a look, he returned it with a concerned demeanor. “Yes, there is. You…” Dean cautiously looked around to see if anyone might be listening in on the conversation, but then he was reminded that he was in a mental hospital, what they were saying would just end up being passed off as some loony talk. “You died almost a month ago, again. And you refuse to talk to about it. You’re always grumpy. You hardly sleep and you barely eat. Don’t tell me and Sam that you’re fine. It’s crap, Y/N.”

You retracted your hand as you crossed your arms over your chest, knowing well enough that Dean’s accusations were all true. You’ve been been barely sleeping at all, you were afraid to. Whenever you tried to close your eyes it was only a chance for your mind to replay the night that everything went wrong, and what might happen if Lucifer was right. Eating didn’t seem appetite when your body was filled with constant anxiety. You felt like you were on the brink of a panic attack, but you managed to pull yourself back before you could go overboard. And the attitude came about because you weren’t taking care of yourself. They were right. But you didn’t want to give the satisfaction of knowing.

“What’s there to talk about?” You asked them. “I’m

. Stop worrying about me. It’s annoying.”

“Well, now you know how it feels when you’re always bugging us to share our feelings.” Dean said, his lips stretching into a faint smile from the joke he was trying to make at an attempt of lighting up the mood. You bit your bottom lip as you stared at him with a glare. “See? You’re stressed. You saw something when you were…out. Why don’t you want to tell us?”

“I didn’t see anything!” You found yourself yelling at the boys on the top of your lungs. Suddenly you felt yourself overwhelmed with the pressure of admitting the truth they weren’t ready to hear, if they ever could. A few nurses peered their head out to see if everything was alright as the patients looked at you with startled reactions. You inhaled a deep breath to keep from anymore unwanted attention on the three of you. “I didn’t see anything. It was just dark before I woke up. That’s it. I swear.”

“Don’t lie to us, Y/N. Please.” Sam tried to reason with you as he looked at you with an empathetic stare. You looked at him with a hardening expression at what he said next. “You always do this to us when something bad happens. You shut down and pretend nothing’s wrong. Losing Jo and Ellen at the same time isn’t easy. Not talking about it and avoiding it isn’t going to make you feel any better. What you saw out there, it’s got to be one of the worst things yet…I mean, you’re not like us. You didn’t grow up in this lifestyle, you’re not screwed up like us. So it’s understandable if you’re feeling vulnerable right now.“

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked the younger Winchester, finding his comforting words having a different meaning than what they had meant to be. Sam looked at you with a confused look as he wondered why you were suddenly overreacting at his words that he meant to try and help you feel better. You crossed your arms tightly over your body and snapped at the man. "Just because I wasn’t born into this lifestyle—because my mother wasn’t an obsessive freak—doesn’t mean I’m any less of a hunter than you are. God forbid if I don’t wallow in sadness the way you expect me to. I’m handling their deaths just fine, by the way. I think I’m used to people dropping like flies around me.”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N.” Sam said, his voice shifted slightly when you gave hims the response he wasn’t expecting. You stared at him with a glare, not wanting anymore of this help that wasn’t getting either one of you anywhere. “You just can’t keep this crap in.”

Your lips stretched into a grim smile, “Watch me.”

Dean knew there was no way of getting you to talk about your feelings right now from the sour look on your face. Letting out a faint sigh, he looked around the room to see if he could find Martin among the group of patients, it took a moment, but he spotted the other hunter in the far left side of the room. Martin occupied a table that was right next to the window that overlooked the outside gardens. He seemed lost in his own personal thoughts, or too drugged out of his mind to figure out what was going on around him when the three of you started to approach the man. It took Dean of saying the man’s name to get him to snap out of his thoughts. Martin looked over at the boys for a second, not sure who they were, but taking a closer inspection, you watched as his face lit up as a smile spread across his face.

“Sam. Dean.” Martin greeted the men as he jumped up from his seat. He eagerly reached out to shake their hands, happy to see them again after so many years. Most hunters you had met who had known the brothers earlier in their life had seen them only as little kids who were little runts. But now, both of the boys being well over six feet tall, were shadows of their previous selves after being raised in the hunting lifestyle. And good genes helped, too. “Wow. Wow, you boys got big. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Sam said, a smile spread across his lips. “You do, too, Martin.” 

You observed the other man for a moment, taking notice of how much older he appeared than what you were expecting. Martin had to be just about how old John would be, if he were still alive, with crow’s feet outlined at the sides of his eyes when he gave the three of you a toothy smile, with a hint of nervousness behind it. You stretched your lips into a polite smile when he turned his attention in your direction. “Oh.” Martin gave you a small wave as he gave you an unsure look, wondering who you might be. “And who’s this?”

“This is Y/N. Our other hunting partner.” Dean introduced you. You gave the older man a smile as you gave him a wave, showing off the most happiness the brothers had seen since you had gotten here. But it soon faded from the remark that Dean made. “And friend when she doesn’t have a stick up her ass.”

Martin seemed a little confused at the sarcasm, but he chuckled, breaking what tension there might still be lingering between the three of you. “Well, thanks for coming. Now, come on. Come on.” He gestured with his hands for all of you to take a seat. You managed to snag the only free one that was right across from Martin, leaving the boys to pull up a few plastic chairs from other tables before settling themselves down. “In the old days, I could’ve taken this thing with both hands tied behind my back. But, well, now…”

“What do you think it is that we’re hunting?” You asked Martin.

“I don’t know yet. A ghost, demon, monster. Animal, vegetable, mineral.” Martin tried to make a joke as he let out a chuckle. You gave him a weak smile, attempting to understand his weak attempt at making a joke. “Hospital’s had five deaths in the last four months. Doctors keep calling it suicides, but they’re wrong.”

“So you’ve seen this thing?” Sam wondered.

Martin glanced away from the younger Winchester, settling his gaze on the table as he shook his head no to answer the question. “Has anyone see this thing?” Dean asked.

“Well, a couple of patients have, uh, had glimpses.” Martin said. “But that’s not a lot to go on.”

“Are they reliable?” Dean asked the other hunter. Martin wondered why the oldest Winchester would ask such a thing. He thought they were reliable, so why would he question that? Dean had a few ideas of what flaws might be in trusting someone that…might not be all there. You followed his gaze when he shifted around slightly in his chair to give an example. You furrowed your brow to see an older woman enjoying herself as she twirled around the room with an invisible partner as she hummed the music underneath her breath. “Gee, I don’t know.”

“I know you boys think I’m a bag of loose screws. Well, you wouldn’t be wrong.” Martin agreed to that point. The man might not be the hunter he used to be, yet his instincts were still sharp as a tac. “But I wouldn’t have called you unless there was something here. I can feel it in my gut.”

You looked over at the boys for a moment to see what they had thought about this. Things for the three of you were slow, no hunts had popped up, and the Devil was still on the loose. Your only possible lead was a dead end. All of you had been sitting around, twiddling your thumbs, until the boys had gotten the call from Martin. You shrugged your shoulders, thinking this might be a case for all of you to work on and keep yourselves busy. “We believe you.” Sam reassured the man. “Have you checked any of the bodies, found signs of an attack?”

“Well, uh, no.” Martin changed his demeanor at the mention of going around something that made him feel squeamish. He nervously swallowed as his body tensed up at the thought. “I don’t, uh…I don’t go around dead b-bo…b-bodies anymore.”

“Alex, Eddie. Norma.” You heard a familiar voice coming from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed Dr. Fuller had decided to see how the three of you were settling yourselves in. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re making friends. Why don’t you and Mr. Creaser join us for group? Please. Right this way.” You looked over at Sam, both of you thinking you really didn’t have a choice in the matter, plus it might give you a better chance at hearing what was going on here. All of you got up from your chairs and began walking down to where Dr. Fuller had gestured, but it seemed there was only room for three more, as Dean was left standing near the table. “Actually. I’m going to be putting you in the afternoon group.”

“What?” Dean asked. “Why?”

“Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother and ‘wife’ seems dangerously codependent.” Dr. Fuller explained to the man. “I think a little time apart will do the three of you good.”

You were a bit thrown off from the observation the doctor had made from just being around you for only a little while. If only he knew that all of you spent almost twenty four hours together, seven days a week. You looked over at Dean, who was a bit confused at why this needed to happen, but you waved him goodbye, thinking that spending some time apart was just what the doctor ordered.

\+ + +

“All right, so, who would like to start us off?” Dr. Fuller lead you all into another room just down the hall where he had a circle of chairs all lined up. You sat yourself down and kicked out your legs, wondering what was going to come of this meeting. You looked around the circle of patients to see if anyone was here because of social anxiety. Most people didn’t speak a single peep, but one patient in particular didn’t waste a second to throw his arm up in the air as an attempt to get the doctor’s attention. Dr. Fuller let out a quiet sigh, hoping someone might be brave enough to talk, but everyone remained silent, forcing him to call on the overly eager patient. “All right, Ted. Calm down.” 

“I am calm.” Ted said. You listened to what he had to say, as it was what exactly what you were hoping to hear. You shifted around in your seat as you looked at Sam from the corner of your eye to see if he was interested as you were about this. “And I’d very calmly like to talk about the monster that’s hunting us.”

“Ted,” Dr. Fuller warned the man that was sitting across from him in the circle. “We’re not going to have that discussion again. It’s not good for group.”

“I agree. You know what else isn’t good for group?” Ted asked. You watched as he began to shift slightly in his seat, seeming overwhelmed with fear at the threat of a creature stalking the halls. “A monster eating all our faces off!”

“All right, fine. Thank you.” Dr. Fuller said, brushing off the man’s concerns. “Now, anyone else—”

“I saw it!” Ted yelled out. “When it killed Susan!”

“I did, too. It had big lobster claws.” A woman agreed with Ted, trying her attempt at helping uncover a monster. But Ted didn’t like her description of the monster when he shouted at her that it didn’t, but she continued on. “Yeah, and it was an alien, like on 'X-Files.’”

“Stop it! Stop helping! Listen to me!” Ted warned all of you as he rocked slightly in his spot. You watched as his eyes lingered to the door that had a window just small enough to look outside to the hallway. “We’re all dead!”

“That’s enough!” Dr. Fuller shouted at the man, making him cut the nonsense that he was trying to start with the other patients. You looked over to see the doctor wasn’t happy. He leaned slightly in his seat as he took off his glasses and looked at Ted straight in the eye, wanting to make one thing clear. “There is no monster. Now, Ted, do you need me to call the orderlies…Or can you behave?”

Ted shook his head, not wanting to cause trouble. He listened to what the doctor had said as he mumbled, “No.”

\+ + +

Group therapy was over about an hour later, after hearing a few other interesting stories, you and Sam were still interested in what Ted had to say about this supposed monster. You wanted to have a few words with him to hear what else he might have to say, but it would be almost impossible while Dr. Fuller was around, watching all of you like a hawk. You and Sam headed out into the hall and began looking for Dean, who had to be around here somewhere. You managed to find him roaming around the place, he seemed to have been a bit in a daze, but when you reached out and pulled him back into reality, Dean looked at you with a defeated look, like something was seriously bothering him.

“You okay?” You asked him with a concerned expression.

“I just got 'thraped.’ So, no, Y/N,” Dean answered you. “I am not okay.”

“First off, don’t ever say 'thraped’ again. Just…don’t.” You said, not finding his play on words the least bit funny. “And what? Someone finally make you tap into all those emotions?”

Dean looked at you with an annoyed expression, while he was tempted himself to make a remark about your lingering attitude, he chose to be the bigger person here. Well, big as someone with his personality could be. “Tell me you and 'Girl, Interrupted’ found something.”

“Yeah. A guy says he saw the creature. We should talk to him.” Sam said, giving the some information that was the only real lead you had right now. “Want to meet back here in an hour?”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed with the plan. “The sooner we take care of this thing, the sooner we can get gone. This place gives me the creeps.”

You couldn’t agree more with what Dean had said for once. This place just gave you the wrong kind of vibes that you weren’t exactly used to. But this place was for people to get the help they needed to make their lives better. Turning around in your spot on the floor, you were about to head for your room, but you came face to face with another woman, who, from the way she was dressed, must have been a patient. You gave her a friendly smile when you noticed she was staring at you with a smile of her. You were about to step out of her way, thinking you might have been blocking the hall, but that wasn’t the case at all. She seemed to not have been like the rest of the patients here, for she was all kinds of friendly. You weren’t expecting it when she leaned over and decided to have a little bit of fun, and by that, she pressed her lips against yours.

You were nothing short of surprise of what the hell was happening, but you found yourself quickly shutting your eyes and as this complete stranger decided to start making out with you in the middle of the hallway. She wasn’t a bad kisser, either. You enjoyed the kiss for a moment or so longer before she pulled away, you inhaled a breath as she looked at you with a grin. She whispered hi, you found your voice, managing to say hello back as you gave her a small smile.

“I’m Wendy.” She introduced herself to you. 

“Uh-huh.” You mumbled at her as your lips stretched into a wobbly smile. “I’m…uh…”

Wendy gave you a smirk, seeming satisfied at the greeting that she wanted to share for only you. She looked over at the boys and gave them a smile as she started to walk away, only as she walked passed you, she decided to be a bit more cheeky. You let out a faint squeak when you felt you lightly tap you on the ass. You looked over your shoulder to see her give you one last smile and wave, leaving you standing there with a pink tint starting to creep across the apples of your cheeks, quietly wondering what had unraveled. You waited a moment before your eyes wandered over to the boys. Sam was frozen in his spot as his mouth parted open slightly, he tried to form a few words into a sentence, but nothing really seemed to fall out. Dean stared at you with a slowly itching grin, like a typical man, he thought what had unraveled was the thing of fantasy.

“Well,” You cleared your voice as you licked your lips, getting one more taste of Wendy as you felt yourself grow a bit of a smile. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.”

\+ + + 

You let out a loud sigh in boredom, the noise echoed off the plain white walls as you looked at the interior of the room, or what there lacked of. After you and the boys departed ways, you decided to go snooping around at the nurses’ station to see if you could find out where Ted, the patient in group therapy, started going on about how a monster was killing off patients. He might have been here for reasons pertaining to his mental health, but from what you read on his file, he was here on the terms of having a breakdown due to the stress of his job. Perhaps his fears of a monster roaming around the halls were caused by his anxiety ridden mind, making him see things that weren’t really there. But it couldn’t hurt to have a little chat with him.

Only if Sam would hurry up and unlock the door before he got caught. All of you were supposed to be tucked away for the night, trying to find sleep that would never come. But you didn’t have time for that. You heard the lock click back into place just a moment later as the door swung open, revealing Sam and Dean. Kicking your legs over the bed, you pushed yourself to your feet and peeked out into the hall to see if there was anyone around. You noticed that it was abandoned by nurses or patients that may disturb your little plan. You stepped out into the hall and looked at Sam with a bit of an annoyed look, wondering what took so long. He lifted up his arm to reveal a little gadget he made by simply tearing apart the bedspring. It wasn’t his lock pick, but it’d do.

“About time.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, seeming to become impatient as you were. “Nurses are on their rounds. We got, like, fifteen, twenty minutes. Where is this guy, Y/N?”

“Room 306.” You said, pointing a finger down the hall.

You and the boys headed down the hall, taking a left at the nearest corner, you turned your head to the closest door to see the number, but your attention was quickly pulled to something else. Your head snapped forward when you heard the piercing scream that erupted the silence. You scurried down the hall when you pinpointed where the noise was coming from, the boys were on your heels when they figured out what was going on. You spotted room 306 and rushed forward to see what was going on with Ted. Peering into the small window, your eyes went slightly wide at what you were witnessing. Sam pushed you lightly with his hip when he bent down and tried to unlock the door quick as he possibly could. Dean was hovering over you as he tried to see for himself what was going on. You looked slightly closer to the glass to see what was going on with him that was causing the man to be screaming like a banshee. But that turned out to be a mistake.

You went flinching backwards when Ted’s feet somehow kicked against the glass, taking you off guard and accidentally falling against Dean’s chest. His hands steadied you by placing his hands on his shoulders, but his attention was more focused on the patient who was somehow crawling his way up the walls and screaming his head off. “Hurry up! Come on!” Dean yelled at his little brother, thinking the man wasn’t going fast as he would like. “Hurry up!”

“Back off, Dean!” Sam yelled at his brother.

“God, shut up!” You hissed at the both of them, trying to get the men to focus “Just open the damn door!”

Sam wasn’t too pleased with your tone, but he focused his attention on unlocking the door. It took a few seconds longer before all of you were piling into the room, ever so hopeful that you could save Ted. But you knew it was impossible when his screams turned silent. You let out a heavy sigh to see that he was hanging from one of the pipes, his sheets used as the noose. It was a little too easy to say that you were late on this one.

\+ + +

You didn’t need much more information to know that something was going on here. Seeing a man somehow hang himself up to a pipe that was far too high up for a normal human being to touch was enough for you to realize something bad was going on here. Later in the night, you and the boys headed to the morgue after the doctors discovered Ted’s body and cut him down from where he hung himself. You watched as Dean bent down and opened up the small freezer compartment that held the patient’s body until tomorrow morning, where he would probably be shipped off to a funeral home, his family thinking that his death was a suicide. No questions asked in this type of establishment. Your lips stretched into a frown when Sam lifted off the sheet from the man’s face to reveal the marks on Ted’s neck. Whoever was killing these people, these innocent people who were picked off, with no chance for someone to believe them, was going to be a brutal end.

You examined his body to see if you could find any sort of psychical evidence to pinpoint what you were you could be dealing with. As you and Dean took a closer inspection on Ted’s fingernails to see if there was any sort of markings or residue. While you weren’t sure what you were looking for exactly, Sam took a moment to examine the man’s neck, his fingers felt around the skin to see if he could find anything, and he did at the glans of his neck. Sam furrowed his brow when he felt what to be small holes in the skin, like a pierced wound.

“Hey. Yeah, I found something. Um…give me a hand. Y/N. can you hand me that?” Sam gestured his finger to one of the mouth swabs as his brother kept the victim’s neck at a certain level as he turned it slightly for all of you to examine the wound at a better angle. You reached over to grab what Sam needed and stepped back, wondering what he had found. Sam stuck the q-tip into the small hole and began shoving it deeper and deeper, until he touched something that he shouldn’t have been able to do. “This hole goes all the way through to his brain.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, feeling a little sick to your stomach at the thought.

Sam let out a sigh as he began wondering what he could do to answer that question. He glanced around the morgue, trying to find a solution, and the man found one after one of the coroners left out a very dangerous tool. “Let’s find out.”

You glanced over to see where his gaze had landed. You could feel a scoff about to escape your mouth when you realized he wanted to cut open the man’s head to get a better look at his brain. “Seriously, Sammy?” You asked him with a bit of disbelief. “Why don’t we just get the nurses?”

“We gotta find out what happened to him, Y/N.” Sam said. You rolled your eyes, knowing the man was right about that. He glanced over at his brother and nodded his head to the double doors that brought all of you out to the hallway. “You might want to keep watch.”

The things you would do for this job. After the boys got the body over to the metal slab, you found a pair of latex gloves for you and Sam, just something to prepare yourselves as you got to work. You’ve never gotten the chance to cut open one’s head with a medical saw, but there was a first time for everything. Sam did the honors, as he’d had done a lot of things you had, you would give him that credit. Your nose wrinkled slightly when Sam took a few minutes to hack through the skin and bone, but that wasn’t the hardest part. He bent down at the examination table to take off the skull without causing too much of a mess. The squishing noise made you look away as Sam easily popped off the bone and rested it against the metal. Inhaling a deep breath, you slowly drew your gaze back over to him after a moment or so, what Sam was holding caused you to do a double take, unsure of what you were staring at.

“What the…What the hell is that?” You gathered whatever strength you had to stomach what you were about to examine. Sam lifted up what you were presuming was an organ of Ted’s, but was in much worse shape that you would have suspected. Both of you had little time to examine the man’s brain as one of the doors swung open, Dean came rushing in. “Hey, look—his brain’s been sucked dry.”

“That’s real fascinating, Y/N.” Dean said. “Somebody’s coming.”

You let out a few curse words underneath your breath from the news. You and Sam worked quick as you possibly could to getting Ted’s head back together before the boys were putting him back into the freezer. You snapped off your bloody gloves fast as you could and handed them to the younger Winchester. He bawled them up with his own, and with some luck, he managed to toss them directly into the waste basket, just in time for Nurse Happy, the one who had checked you in, was the one who stepped into the morgue. She stopped dead in her tracks and gave the three of you a bit of a smile, wondering how you had gotten down here without being detected.

“What are you guys doing here?” She asked all three of you.

You let out a bit of a nervous chuckle as your lips stretched into a smile, hoping she could would just let the three of you just leave, but it didn’t seem to be that way she her expression slowly changed into a serious one. You slowly looked up at the boys, wondering how the hell you were going to get out of this one. Dean, being the moron that he was, decided to try out a method that wouldn’t be uncommon in a place like this. Your eyes went bug-eyed wide when he decided to pull his pants, and boxers, down to his ankles. You found yourself letting out a bit of an inappropriate chuckle when he threw his hands up in the air, showing off everything that he had to offer the nurse.

“Pudding!” He shouted on the top of his lungs with a growing crooked smile.

Nurse Happy didn’t seem to be all that amused, she just shook her head and let out a very quiet sigh from tonight’s unexpected events. “All right. Come on, you three.”

Dean seemed more than happy for what he managed to get away with. He bent down and pulled up his pants, you innocently leaned over, deciding to check out his behind for a bit of fun, before it was covered by his pajama bottoms. There were few things in life that would grow tired of, and that was the oldest Winchester’s physique. He headed for the door that was being held open by the nurse, but he stopped for a moment when he turned around in his spot to look at you and his little brother. “Crazy works!” He mouthed at the two of you with a smirk growing across his lips. You couldn’t argue with him about that. The three of you headed out of the morgue and back to your rooms for the night with no questions asked.

\+ + +

“Are those original Gacys?”

“I painted those.”

The next morning, you and the boys headed to Martin’s room to discuss what you had seen from the previous night. Dean found himself distracted by the watercolor paintings on the hunter’s wall of nothing but sad clowns. You wondered why the man had chosen to paint the subject, but you didn’t think much about it, your attention focused on the reason why you were here in the first place. “Back on point, please.” You said, snapping both of the men out of their conversation that died quickly as it started. Dean felt a bit bad at insulting Martin’s paintings, so he tried making it up to him by saying they were good. “Um, so whatever this thing is…it slurpees your brain—sucks you dry.”

“Yeah, then it makes your deaths look like suicides.” Dean said. “Any ideas?”

You looked over at Martin to see if he had a clue to what you could be hunting. The man needed only a few moments before an unpleasant look settled across his face. “Yeah. A bad one.”

Martin excused himself for a second as he searched around his room for his journal that he kept during hunting. He flipped through the pages before he found exactly what he wanted. You stepped forward to the journal to examine a drawing that had been done with pen. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilted your head to the side and examine the picture. It was of a terrifying face with big eyes and a snarling mouth full of jagged edged teeth with hair all over the place. Just from the looks of it sent a bit of a shiver up your spine. "What is it?” You asked him.

“Well, I bet you a chicken dinner it’s what we’re up against. A wraith.” Martin said. You looked over at him when he told you of a monster you’d never heard of. “They crack open skulls and feed on brain juice.”

“You ever tangle with one before?” Sam asked.

“Never.” Martin answered. “Never wanted to, either.”

Dean asked the most important question, “So how do we kill it?”

“Silver. You so much as you touch a wraith with the stuff, and the skin will crackle. Now, that’s the good news.” Martin said. You raised your brow, wondering what he was going to say next. “The bad news is…they can pass as humans. It could be any Peter, Paul, or Mary in the joint.”

“Fantastic.” You muttered underneath your breath. “So how do we find it?”

“A-A mirror.” Martin said. “Lore says a wraith will show its true form in a mirror.”

“Okay, well, we just got to spot-check every patient and every staff member.” Dean said, knowing that was only going to be just the beginning of your troubles for this hunt.

“Okay. Yeah.” Sam nodded his head, agreeing with the plan. He thought about what all of you were dealing with, and why it was doing here. “But, I mean, what’s it doing in a mental hospital?”

“A nuthouse—it’s a perfect captive victim pool. It’s an all you can eat, buffet. No questions asked.” You said with your lips stretching into a faint smile, feeling a little morbid about how genius this monster was. “Who’s gonna believe a patient when they saw they saw a monster? It’s the perfect hunting ground.”

\+ + +

Dean decided to take the recreation room, Sam called dibs on the cafeteria, Martin felt safer if he took control of the halls, which meant you were left with the day room. It was mostly just another room for patients to wander through and try to enjoy what freedom they had. You sat in one of the chairs with dull pointed colored pencils and a sketchpad at your fingertips. It’d been awhile since you dabbled with your artist side. You thought it would be better to keep yourself occupied than to just sit here, staring off into space while looking at the security mirror that hung above the nurses station. You had the perfect view of the mirror from where you sat as nurses and patients wandered on by, not having a single clue of what you were doing. You reached out for one of the colored pencils and looked down at your empty sketchbook, unsure of what you wanted to draw.

“Paint me like one of your french girls, Jack.” You heard a voice appear out of nowhere, making you slightly jump out of your skin as you let go of the pencil, letting it roll across the table, until the stranger’s finger stopped it. You over to your left side to see someone had been generous enough to keep the pencil from rolling by using their ring finger to steady it. As you looked up from the table, you were about to thank the stranger, a smile was slowly creeping across your lips. But who you saw sitting right next to you made you freeze in your spot. He was leaning against the table with his knuckles cradling his head. His lips stretched into a friendly smirk at the panicked look that settled in your facial features.. “I would have never pegged you as the artist type. But I can see it now.”

You could feel your blood growing cold as your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected guest you weren’t expecting to see. Out of caution, you slowly looked around the room to see if anyone was around, but all the patients and nurses were too busied with their own worries to care about the conversation you were about to strike up with the Devil. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t pop in to say ‘hi’ to my little prodigy?” Lucifer asked. You frowned at his words. “Oh, turn that frown upside down, Y/N. That causes wrinkles, you know. Well, after I’m done with you, you won’t have to worry about that. You’ll be frozen in time. We’ve got to keep this beauty.”

“Stop it.” You hissed at him. Your hands clenched into a fist at how he always talked about you, like you were some masterpiece he wanted to take advantage of, to obsess over. He wanted to give you all the power you wanted, but the angel still treated you like an object that he wanted to control. “Stop talking about me like that. Like…Like I’m some piece of art. It’s creepy.”

“But you are, thought. You’re mine, Y/N.” Lucifer said, his voice dropping slightly. You averted your gaze over to him when you heard the legs of the chair shift against the floor. You could see that he was getting closer to you, giving you a chance to look at his vessel, the one that was only a temporary fix until he got what he truly wanted. “You tell yourself that you’re in control, but you’re not really. You’re mine to do whatever I please with. I can shape you into anything I want. And it kills you inside.”

“Leave me alone.” You hissed at him. You tried your hardest to act normal as you stared directly in front of the room that overlooked the hallway. Your eyes wandered to the mirror you that you were supposed to be looking at in the first place. A few people passed by, passing your inspection. But your mind didn’t focus on that for too long. Your eyes wandered to the spot in the reflection where you could see Lucifer. He leaned forward so you could feel his breath tickling the shell of your ear, wanting to just test his luck. You closed your eyes and clenched your fists. “Leave me alone. Or I swear to God—”

“God can’t save you. You can’t save yourself. Dean can’t even save you. Not after I get done with you. Not until I turn you into exactly what I want.” Lucifer whispered into your ear. You inhaled a deep breath, trying your hardest to keep yourself calm. But you were starting to shake from fear, from the anger that he was slowly getting out from you. “Open your eyes, Y/N.”

“No.” You mumbled as you started to shake your head. You knew what happened after you listened to the command, you felt something that you’ve never dealt with. The fear of feeling that absence of emotion for a split second made you terrified to go back there, to feel that emptiness. “No, I won’t.”

“Open your eyes, Y/N. See what you’re going to become…Embrace it. Feed the anger.”

“Just leave me alone.” You hissed at the Devil. “Get out of my head. Leave me alone.”

"Open your eyes, Y/N…”

“Leave me alone!” You couldn’t help yourself but let out an outburst when you felt someone brush their hand lightly on your arm, trying their hardest to comfort you. You opened your eyes when you felt someone try to touch you. As you were tempted to harm the stranger to get them away from you, immediately you stopped when you realized who it was. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

Dr. Fuller stood over you with a concerned expression. He had one hand rested against your upper arm to try and break you out of some sort of trance that you wouldn’t break out of. “Are you alright, Norma?”

“Y-Yeah.” You mumbled, nodding your head slightly. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Dr. Fuller asked once more, you answered him by giving the man another smile as you nodded your head. He squeezed your arm and stood up straight. “Okay. If you need to talk, I’ll be in my office. Just tell one of the orderlies.”

You thanked the doctor and watched as he circled around the room for a moment, tending to the few patients that were disturbed by your outburst, that you didn’t know why even happened. You looked down at the sketchbook for a moment as you cradled your head, trying to keep yourself from growing anymore embarrassed from what happened. You watched from the corner of your eye as Dr. Fuller began walking out of the day room and to the hallway, passing by the security mirror. Out of curiosity, your eyes wandered to the reflection, thinking you were going to see his middle-aged face and glasses, but what you saw as his true self made you drop the colored pencil to the ground. Your intention of drawing passed right when you saw the wraith’s face staring back at you in the mirror.

\+ + +

Later into the night, while the patients were enjoying their weekly movie night, you and the boys were getting ready to wrap up this hunt. You impatiently waited in the hallway as Sam looked around the hospital to see if he could find anything silver to kill this monster of the week. You wanted to get out of here and forget about this place once and for all. For some reason you felt like you were losing your mind, seeing things that weren’t really there. Or so you told yourself. It wouldn’t be the first time Lucifer decided to pop into your head and have a little chat.

“All right.” You let out a sigh of relief as you threw your arms up in the air with relief when you saw Sam heading forward down the hall, managing to pass a few orderlies before joining his brother and Mitch. He pulled out exactly four envelope openers from his robe pocket. “I had to raid three nurses’ stations to get these. They’re only silver-plated, but they should work.”

“Better than nothing.” You said, snatching one of the openers from Sam.

You slipped the knife into your pocket of your robe without anyone noticing, but that’d be the least of your worries. You were about to cross your arms over your chest, waiting for the next plan of action, but Dean found someone approaching the three of you that would cause a delay in your plan. “Oh, no, no, no.” Dean said. You looked over your shoulder to see that it was Wendy, who was back at it again. “Not today, sweetheart. Come on. Keep walking. I—”

You were expecting Wendy to try and make a move on you again, but it seemed she wasn’t in the mood for you, she wanted something a bit different. She brushed past you and headed for the younger Winchester. You raised your brow slightly when she pushed him against the wall and kissed him, but Sam seemed hesitant, he looked at the three of you as she peppered kisses on his lips, wanting someone to pull this woman off of him. She backed away for a moment, but her hands rested on his chest as they slowly began working forwards.

"I want him now.” Wendy said. She looked over her shoulder and at you to make it clear she was over you for now. You couldn’t help yourself but shake your head and quietly chuckle. “He’s larger.”

“Okay, okay. TIme to go, sweetheart. Run along.” Dean said, lightly pushing the young woman off his brother and to the direction of the hallway. She gave Sam a playful wink before she was off, disappearing from your sight for now. “Hmm. You’ve had worse.”

You rolled your eyes and looked over at the group, knowing time wasn’t a thing you should have been wasting right now, discussing topics that weren’t of importance. “Fuller is on call tonight,” You told them what you knew. “So we’ll have to hit him after lights out. All four of us.”

“What? No!” Martin protested the idea.

“Martin, we need all hands on deck for this one. We got to get past security, past the orderlies and then cut the boss man’s throat, okay? Unlike these two, I’m not a giant. I can’t take someone twice my size with this thing.” You said, lifting up the envelope opener. “It’s gonna suck start to finish, but we could use the backup.”

“No, I can’t.” Martin whispered. He shook his head as he started walking down the hall, suddenly wanting to get away from the three of you fast as he could. “I can’t.”

“We know what happened in Albuquerque.” Sam said, making the hunter stop in his tracks.

Martin stood there for a few seconds with his back turned to the three of you, until he spoke up again. “You don’t know the half of it.” He whispered. You watched as he turned around to face you and the boys, wanting to explain of how he got like this, and how soul-crushing hunting could be. “God, I used to be just like you three. I used to think I was invincible. And then…well, I found out I’m not.”

“Martin, you are still a hunter.” Dean said.

“No, I’m not! I’m useless! Why do you think I checked myself into the Hotel California? I’d give anything to help you kids. I would. But I-I can’t.” Martin apologized for what he was doing to all of you without a better reason. He felt terrible for letting his fear get in the way, but it was the right thing for him to do. Putting one of your lives on the line wasn’t something that he could deal with, he needed to play it safe to keep you out of danger, too. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

No amount of empathy or words could take away the pain Martin was feeling right now. You let out a quiet sigh from the situation he was putting you through, but you had no choice. You were forced to watch as the man walked down the hall and turned the corner, wanting to be back in the comfort of his own room and forget this night had ever happened.

\+ + +

You and the boys were on your own for this one. The first place that you check was Dr. Fuller’s office, and while it was abandoned, the sight of his keys meant he was still in the building, probably hunting down his next target. You split up from the brothers for a moment to see if you could pinpoint his exact whereabouts before meeting back up with them. You knew a silver plated knife wasn’t going to be good enough for something that wanted to suck your brains dry. But you were determined to take this thing down once and for all. Ever so quietly, you reached out your free hand and turned the door handle, leading you down to the south wing of the hospital.

You waited a moment to see if anyone was going to pop out from either side of the corner, but when you saw the coast was clear, you slipped into the hall and began walking forward. Steadying your breathing and gripping your handle around the knife, you slowly walked forward to the end of the hall, where you would be given a fifty-fifty chance of seeing Dr. Fuller. As you took one step forward, you peered into the hall, almost expecting to see nobody, but when you caught sight of his familiar face, you quickly retracted yourself back. You pressed your backside against the wall and waited as the doctor’s footsteps turned the corner, making you realize he was coming your way. It would have been easier to follow him and wait for the boys to be your backup, but that wasn’t logical. You knew it wouldn’t take much to take him down. While your practical side would have gotten backup, it was another part of you, the newer side that was slowly starting to wake up, that drove you to do what you did.

Dr. Fuller had been innocently reading a case file of one of the patients here, just wanting to get back to his office and wrap up tonight’s long shift when you popped out from the corner. He had little time to react when you made your move. You easily drew out your arm and sliced at his forearm, cutting deep enough to draw blood, but that was it. But you didn’t realize it. You were about to attempt at attacking the doctor again to try and get the reaction you wanted. Yet the two orderlies that came out from the corner easily stopped you. Being half the size of the people who worked here could have put a crimp in your plan. Yet, you weren’t afraid of them. 

You struggled to get yourself free as the two men picked you up by your arms, dragging your body as you kicked your legs into the air. It took a few attempts until you managed to land a kick right at one of the men’s stomach and the other directly into the groin. It was a cheap shot, but it was enough to drop you to the ground. You managed to recover yourself just as one tried to grab you, but you swung a punch at him, using enough force to knock him down. Everything seemed like a blur in your mind. You didn’t realize there had been another orderly until you pushed him face first into a glass window. Dr. Fuller had witnessed you, someone who was at least half the size of these people, take them down without breaking a sweat. When you took a moment to catch your breath, you looked at the doctor straight in the eye, but the man took it has his chance to run.

You didn’t let him get far when you snatched the knife up from the ground and went running after him. Dr. Fuller managed to turn the corner and make it another few steps before you were after him. You tackled the man to the ground and crawled ontop of him, fighting for dominance as he shifted to his backside to try and fight you off. You took your chance to stab him when you swung your arm up in the air again, your mind so was focused on getting revenge, you didn’t realize you had targeted the wrong man before it was almost too late.

“No! No! Y/N, stop!” You felt someone roughly take ahold of your wrist, yanking you out of this trance you had been under. You tried to fight off the person, but they proved to be stronger. “Look at his arm! The cut’s not burning! It’s not him! It’s not him.”

You realized the person who was speaking to you was Sam. His voice seemed to have been what you needed to get you back to reality, making you realize what you’d done. You looked around at your surroundings to see that you were completely fine with the idea of taking another person’s life you clearly knew wasn’t the monster you were looking for. You could feel a rush of guilt wash over you as the knife dropped out of your grip, it fell to the floor with a quiet thud, but you couldn’t hear it over your racing hear that violently pounded against your ribcage.

\+ + + 

You were never the one to dabble in drugs for their fun psychedelic effects on the mind, and smoking was a nasty habit you never wanted to pick up on. If your life was going to be cut short, you wanted it to be hunting, not because you hacked yourself to death. Drinking was the only real thing that you did to help yourself forget about the problems of yesterday when they became too much. But that was only on the rare occasion of things. You weren’t comfortable with the bottles as you were with the boys, you snuggled close when you needed an extra boost to sleep. Or, on the very rare occasions, when you and the brothers had a fun night out on the bar scene. There was nothing wrong with choosing your vices to get through this thing called life. And you were in a mental hospital where patients needed drugs to help stabilize their conditions. Whatever the hell the doctor gave you after you were dragged off to the infirmary, it was better than any sort of drink Dean urged you to try. You didn’t know the last time you felt this…amazing.

All though you were lying in bed with your back pressed against the uncomfortable headboard and in the darkness of the room, you didn’t complain. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You would give anything to feel like this for the rest of your life. Is this wanted Lucifer wanted you to feel like? To feel like you’re constantly high on life, like you could do just about anything if you wanted? A small smile began to creep at the ends of your lips at the thought of him. That was nice of him to just pop in here to see how you were doing. Why were you so against him? His vessel might have been worn down, but he was pretty handsome. He was a handsome devil.

You head was pressed against the wall as your eyes wandered around the ceiling, trying to find out where Lucifer might be hiding. He always like to bother you more than once. Your mouth parted open slightly as your brow furrowed, wondering where he could have been. You turned your neck slightly to look at the door when you heard the door handle beginning to rattle. It took a few seconds before you saw the door swing wide open. The boys stepped inside after one of them must have unlocked the door. Dean looked out to see if any of the nurses had caught them as Sam stepped inside, being the first one to see how you were doing after the previous events that landed you here. He’d been the one to see you go…out of it. Your lips stretched into a frown at seeing him looking like he was guilty at how you snapped.

“Sammy, Dean.” You said, managing to speak right after the oldest Winchester closed the door.

Dean looked over at you for a moment, inspecting a side that he’d never seen before. He had witnessed you drunk out of your mind, but seeing you drugged was a new one for him. You just laid there, giving no true indication of how the drugs were affecting you. Dean took a step forward to the bed as his brother lingered around, not sure what to do. “You okay?”

“No. No, I’m not okay. I…I…I…” You tried to find the right words that could describe how you were feeling right now. The boys gave you a concerned look, but you gave them a lazy smile as you let out a bit of a giggle. “I-I’m awesome!”

“They give you something?” Sam asked, you laughed at his question.

“Oh, yeah. They—They gave me everything.” You said as you nodded your head. You looked over at the younger Winchester with a growing smile again. “It…It’s spectac…lacular. Sammy, you’ve really got to try some of this stuff. It’s…wait. What’s that big, fancy word I was trying to say?”

“Spectacular?” Sam presumed, you let out a giggle and pointed a finger at him.

“You were always a happy drunk.” Dean muttered to himself, a little bit amused at seeing you just laying there with a smile on your face that seemed euphoric and pleasant.

“You should have seen me this one time. Did I ever tell you guys the time I smoked a blunt when I was fourteen? Oooh, my mom killed me. I was grounded for three months. But it was totally worth it, man. Totally.” You told them a secret that you had forgotten about. It was something that all kids did when they were teenagers. It was a one time deal, but you didn’t really feel anything. You just took a few puffs before you were coughing your lungs out. “Wait, what were we talking about?”

"That you’ve got more balls than Sam.” Dean said, a smile spreading across his lips at how you were acting. “Didn’t know you were such a rebel, Y/N.”

You didn’t react the way Dean expected you to, it seemed your mind, despite it being more relaxed than usual, realized you had important things to discuss. You lifted yourself up from the bed just enough to grab the boys by their arms and dragging them down to your level. You plopped back down the mattress and quietly shushed them, as if someone might have been listening on their conversation. Your carefree attitude was replaced with caution, well, the best you could come up with at where your head was, right now. “Guys, the doctor wasn’t a wraith.”

“We know. And I don’t understand it.” Dean said. “I made sure you were right. I mean, I saw it in the mirror myself. It wasn’t human.”

“Or you’re seeing things.” You told him, shrugging your shoulders at the possibility of him losing his mind like how you have been over the past few months. “Maybe—Maybe you’re going crazy.”

“I’m not crazy, Y/N.” Dean argued with you.

“Well, come on. I mean, you’ve been at least…half crazy for a long time. Since you got back from Hell—or since before that. And we’re in a—we’re in a mental hospital. We could have all the help we want, but it’s not gonna help. We’re not safe here. I’m not safe from him.” Your words seemed rather haunting, but the laugh that came afterwards made the boys look at you with a bit of uneasiness. You tried your hardest to keep yourself from having a giggling fit as you inhaled a deep breath. “We can try all we want to hunt and make ourselves feel better. But he’s still gonna find me.”

"Who are you talking about, Y/N?” Sam asked you. You looked over at him with a bit of a confused expression, almost forgetting that he was here with you, until he spoke up again. “Who’s coming for you?”

“Lucifer, silly! He visited me again. That’s probably why I felt so angry today. And why I didn’t stop trying to hurt Dr. Fuller.” You admitted to him. A pang of guilt washed over your expression at what you had done to land yourself here. But it only lasted for a moment. “But he showed up in his usual vessel and not you. You know, I prefer when he comes like you. I don’t know, it makes him less…scary. Like I’m not talking to the devil. It’s just me and my best friend. My very handsome best friend. Have I ever mentioned you two are so cute?”

“Okay, okay.” Sam managed to grab you by the wrists when you jumped up from your spot on the bed. Now you were on your knees and got yourself ready to do something you would regret. He let out a soft chuckle and eased you back down to the bed so you were sitting on your ankles. He made you calm down for a moment, wanting to hear more about what you admitted. All though it might have been a bit wrong to take advantage of you while you had no real cognitive control of yourself, the boys needed some answers to why you were acting the way you’ve been. “Y/N, what did you mean when Lucifer came as me to you? Does he visit you often?“

"Uh…how many times has it been?” You counted on your fingers, trying to remember how many times the Devil had popped into your head to say more than just a friendly hello. “Six times? He visited me as you only twice. There was the time when Dean kicked you out and told me about his big, secretive plan. And then when I ‘died.’ Oh, he threw me a big shindig for that one. Lucy got me believing you and me were a…” You trailed off for a moment when you realized Dean was staring at you with a rather hardening glare at what he was hearing. You ignored his look and leaned over to Sam’s ear, whispering the answer like it was some dirty secret that made you giggle. “A couple! Like, no thank you! I love you to death. But I couldn’t do that to Dean-o. I mean, he hates you enough as it is. Lucifer is a pretty smart bastard, though. I’ll give him that. What he’s trying to do…”

“What is he doing to you, Y/N?” Sam asked you, trying to get you to focus on answering. “What did he say to you?”

“He wants all of us dead. Gone—Poof! No humanity left in the world. He wants it just to be you and me. Forever and ever. Oh, and did I mention he wants me to be a demon? I mean, not that he really likes what he created. He told me something about how it would just be easier. And he always thought coming as you, Sammy, that somehow I could be persuaded into getting you to say yes. Not only because it’s gonna happen, but because we’re so much alike. I mean, yeah I love you like a little brother, but Lucifer’s got some good points. You and me…we’re like this.” You crossed your index and middle finger together to make the point you were trying to make. “I know how it feels to be afraid of yourself. Of what you can do. Did I tell you that if you don’t say yes to him I’m gonna turn into a demon. One of those black eyed freaks. How the hell do you think he’s gonna take it if I do?”

Sam nervously swallowed from the hauntingly familiar words. He slowly shifted his head to look at his brother for a second. Dean gave the man a look. Both of them could agree, with just one glance, that things were only growing more worse. But that didn’t stop them from pushing for more answers from you. “Who, Y/N?” Sam asked you in a concerned voice.

“Dean, obviously. I mean, who else?” You said, a quiet laugh escaping you when you looked over at the man. He was a bit taken back at how you presumed he would take the news of your slowly declining humanity. “He thinks he’s so tough. But he’s not. Who’s to say that he’s gonna crack and kill me when I turn bad? I mean, he tortured me in Hell. Said all those nasty things to me…But I guess the shoe’s on the other foot now, buddy. You know how it feels to be crazy.”

You managed to shake your arm free from Sam’s grip to lean over and lightly punch Dean in the shoulder, another wave of the drug did their job, mellowing you out again. “I would never hurt you, Y/N. You know that.” Dean reassured you. You let out a quiet giggle and nodded your head. “Just sit tight and get some sleep.”

“Sleep, sleep, sleep. I can’t sleep. Not when I’m alone, at least. I’m only really happy when I’m with you guys.” You admitted to them. You leaned forward to Dean, resting your hands on his arms to take a squeeze. A smile spreading across your lips at how strong he felt. “I mean, I might talk a lot about how good of a hunter I am. But I still get scared. I like knowing you guys are there with me. That if something happens…if someone tries to break in, I’ll be safe. Man, you guys really give me complicated feelings. It makes my head hurt sometimes.”

“Okay…Y/N,” Dean reached out to cup your cheeks with your hands, making you look at him right in the eye, so you could hear what he wanted to tell you. “You’re not turning into a demon. Sam and I won’t let that happen to you. And even if you did, I will never hurt you. Got it, sweetheart?”

"Aw, I love it when you get all protective over me. It’s so cute. God, I just love you. I mean, I really love you.” You whispered to him, making yourself appear like you were in control right now. But you were being thrown through another loop as you leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the lips, but it only lasted for a second before Dean pulled you away, trying to get you to focus again. “You’re such a sad man. You really are. You try your hardest to be strong. But I can see through it most of the time. It’s one of the things that I hate about you. I still love you. Don’t worry. Because you’re my b-boyfriend. And you,” You looked over at Sam and pointed your finger at the younger Winchester. “You’re my best friend. And you’re the only family I have left.”

"All righty,” Dean forced you to sit back down on the bed so you looked at least comfortable. You snuggled deeper into the pillows and looked over at him, your lips stretched into a smile. “This has been a heartwarming moment, but Sam and I got to go. Think you’ll be fine?”

You answered his question by stretching out your arm and poking his nose with your finger, “Boop!” You whispered, another fit of giggles coming out from you at what you thought was so hilarious. Your giggles only lasted a few seconds before you let out a quiet yawn, feeling the sedatives they given you before leaving start to kick in. “Mmm. Maybe I am tired. I’ll see you later.”

You mumbled a goodnight to them as you decided to lay down on the bed, snuggling into the bed that smelled faintly of some chemical cleaning product. But you really didn’t care right now. You slowly shut your eyes, deciding a few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt. Or until this wraith was dead and you would be on the way. The boys gave one another a look, Sam shrugged his shoulders at what he witnessed come from you. Dean let out a quiet sigh as he opened up the door, wanting this hunt wrapped up once and for all. What you said while under the influence would have to wait until tomorrow.

\+ + +

You managed to get a few hours of sleep before you woke up with a bit of a hazy mind, not sure what happened while you were under, but you remembered every second of how you got here. You didn’t understand how you had gotten so…out of control. While you sat at the edge of the bed, you replayed every single second of how you almost murdered an innocent man, despite knowing he wasn’t the person you were looking for. If Sam hadn’t been there you would have just slit his throat. And then what? Would you feel a single ounce of remorse for your actions? You didn’t want to know. All you knew was that you had a clear enough of a head to realize your mistakes. All you wanted to do was apologize for what you almost did. You began to wag your foot, anxiously wondering if the orderly had listened to your request to speak to Dr. Fuller. Maybe they were just gonna leave you here for the rest of the night. Not like you didn’t deserve it. Maybe you should just spend the rest of your days in here. You

going to be a danger to society if you kept this up.

Knocking at the door caused you to be broken out of your personal thoughts. You could feel a sigh of relief escape your lips when you saw the door open, revealing Dr. Fuller. The arm that you had wounded was patched up, but you could see that he was still fairly upset at what happened. The orderly stood behind him. You watched as he crossed his arms over his chest and settled his gaze upon you, as if he was waiting for another outburst. “You asked to see me?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I, um…” You nervously swallowed, somehow finding harder than it should have been. Dr. Fuller had seen so many things during his time as a doctor, who’s to say he was going to believe you. You could just put on a fake smile and lie through your teeth, only to do it again. But you were going to be genuine as possible, wanting to prove that wasn’t true. “I just wanted to apologize. I feel horrible about what I did to you. I thought you were a monster.”

“I know that.” Dr. Fuller said. “The question is, why?”

“I-I was…it doesn’t matter. Because after what happened last night, I had a moment of clarity.” You said, trying your hardest to come up with an excuse that seemed legitimate enough. But you found yourself stumbling out with something that didn’t really make sense to you, or for Dr. Fuller as his eyes shifted slightly. “I realized there’s no such thing as monsters.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you say that. But honestly? Monsters are the least of your problems. People can learn to live with delusions, but the anger I saw in you.” Dr. Fuller said. You could feel your heartbeat skip faster in your chest at how he described your behavior. “You hurt those two men, and you were going to kill me. For someone of your height and stature, it should have been impossible. But you did it. And the look in your eyes when you came after me—I…it was like you were barely even human. Like a woman possessed.”

You looked up from the ground at the words he used, an expression of panic and guilt washed over you. “I know.” You whispered. He was completely right. Something in you changed. You were going to kill him without a drop of remorse. There was do denying that. But you were guilty, you wanted to apologize and save the day. “Please, just…could you give me a second chance?”

“Well, this isn’t a prison. You’ll be allowed to go in the day room. Under supervision.” Dr. Fuller said. You let out a sigh of relief and smiled at him, mumbling a thank you for the second chance. Before you could get your chance at freedom again, the doctor stepped forward to you, wanting to make one thing clear. “But if there is one more outburst, I will transfer you to a facility that’s equipped to handle violent patients. And believe me, they will be far, far less forgiving.”

\+ + + 

You were released from the infirmary a few minutes later after apologizing the best you could to Dr. Fuller at what you’d done. His arm might heal with time, but what you did would always be with you. The night was still young, which meant you had another hour until it was time for lockdown. Stepping into the day room with one of the orderlies behind you, you scanned the room to see if you could find the boys to try and figure out your next plan of action. You spotted them sitting at a table in the middle of the room, quietly talking among themselves. You shoved your hands into your robe pockets and began walking forward, presuming their conversation was just about the hunt. But when you approached the table, your smile that was slowly spreading across your lips died. You looked at them with a bit of confusion when the brothers were staring at you with looks that you’ve only seen on the rare occasions. Only when you were hunting the nastiest of monsters, the itch for them to slaughter was when the sour look rose.

“Whoa. What’s wrong with you guys?” You asked them, wondering if they might have gotten into a fight about something stupid. “Why do you look like you’re about to kill someone?”

Dean rose from his chair, his little brother soon followed behind. You looked at them with a slightly confused expression from what was going on. “The problem never was you being born out of a demon deal. Or you being pumped up with some extra demon blood juice. It never was.”

You furrowed your brow from what you heard, “Excuse me?”

“The problem was you, Y/N.” Sam spoke up, making you turn your attention over to him. “It was always you—the lies, your little innocent act, the black spot on your soul. You made me believe this entire time that the apocalypse was my fault. It’s all yours.”

“You’re the reason why we’re in this situation. Why our lives are screwed to hell.” Dean hissed at you, making you look over at him. You didn’t know what was going on and why the boys were suddenly treating you with such hatred. But if they wanted to make you feel inferior, they were sure doing a pretty damn good job. “You’re the reason why all of this mess is happening.”

“You’re the reason why we’re dead, Y/N.” You quickly turned around when you heard a voice coming from behind you, as it came from someone that you hadn’t seen in a long time. You could feel your breathing becoming heavier when you saw it was John Winchester, alive and in the flesh again. But he wasn’t alone. Your eyes wandered over to his poor wife, Mary, who had been dead for so many years. “The things that I’ve done for you. And this is how you repay my boys?”

“Do you think this is what I wanted when I sold my soul for you?” You blinked only once, but that was enough for a few more familiar faces to make an appearance. A shiver sent itself down your spin when you saw that it was your mother and father. The looks on their faces alone, the disappointment of how they saw their only child spiral down made you nervously swallow. “You try and you try, but all you do is fail. You failed at being the perfect daughter to your mother. You failed at saving your friends countless times. And you’re failing at stopping yourself from becoming a monster. What can you do right?”

“Six billion people are gonna die, Y/N. And that’s because of you.” Your mother blamed you. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I’m disappointed. How could you do this to me and your father?”

“You’re not real.” You whispered. A grim smile began spreading across your lips as you looked at the crowd of people people that started to surround you. This had to be some sort of trick this wraith was using on you. But it wasn’t going to work. You knew better than these people had it coming, they sold their souls. You wanted to get out of here when you turned on your heels. But when you did, you were faced with him again. “I’m not scared of you. This isn’t real.”

“Are you sure about that, Y/N? Because I’m just getting started. Tonight was just a mild taste of what I have planned for you.” Lucifer said. His lips stretched into a smirk at how hard you were trying to be tough, but he knew it wouldn’t take too much to make you crack. “How do you think you’re gonna be when five months go by? You still gonna have that widdle thing you call self control? You think you’ll survive until then without hurting someone? I don’t think so. I think you’ll snap…”

“Shut up. You’re not real.” You hissed at him. You shook your head, waiting for the moment when you would see him just disappear from your sight. But each time that you blinked, he stood there. “I said, you’re not real. This isn’t happening.”

“And when you do, who’s to say the boys won’t brush it under the rug? I mean, Sammy was pretty bad while he was high on demon blood. But he didn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. I can’t say the same for you.” Lucifer went on. He crossed his arms over his chest as you tried turning your back to him, only you came in contact with the group of people again. The Winchester family, and your own parents that were all dead. “Don’t you think Dean’s gonna have to put a bullet in your head with that fancy colt of his?”

“Leave me alone!” You screamed on the top of your lungs. “Just…leave me alone!”

You tried your hardest to stop the voices by covering your ears with your hands as you shut your eyes, somehow hoping if you concentrated enough, all of this would go away. But it didn’t. You felt yourself being yanked back into reality. Someone grabbed you by the arm and began dragging you away from the day room. You looked into the reflection of the glass to see that it was still Lucifer, he pinned your hands to your side so you couldn’t block out what he was going to say. You could feel tears beginning to well up at the sight of him just hovering over you. “Look at yourself. See what you’re going to become, Y/N.” He hissed at you. His hand roughly grabbed ahold of your chin and forced you into looking at your reflection, the black eyes of yours, to be exact. “I’m your creator. I’m your God. You can run, but I’m gonna find you. And together we’re gonna make this world burn.”

You started screaming for him to get away from you, not realizing the devil really wasn’t really here. And you weren’t a demon just yet. You struggled your hardest to break free from the two orderlies that grabbed ahold of your arms when they figure out you weren’t fitted just yet for public viewing. You kicked and screamed loud as you could, but this time, it wasn’t enough to get yourself free. You looked over your shoulder when you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and to the day room, wondering they were still there. Your eyes widened in fear when you saw everyone was gone, and the boys weren’t helping you try to get free from this mess. Dean was off in the far corner, as Sam stared at the opposite wall. Neither of them were sure of what was going on anymore. But one thing was clear; all of you were silently going mad together.

\+ + + 

This was for your own good, they told you. It was so you wouldn’t hurt yourself or the others around you. Some time in solitary confinement, surrounded by four padded walls as they chained you down by your hands and feet to a bed, they thought it was going to keep you down. Yeah, right. You tried your hardest to fight the leather straps that were padded to keep from getting marks on your body. But the way you were struggling and wriggling around in bed, there was going to be redness. Yet it wouldn’t be anything compared to what you were going to do to the hospital staff when you got your hands on them. But much as you fought the straps, they wouldn’t budge, making you grow even more angrier. You let out a frustrated noise that sounded like a sigh between clenched teeth as your hands rested against each side of your head. You felt like a caged animal, just dying to get out of here and rip someone’s throat out for what they did to you.

Part of you figured out that you could just lay here for however long they wanted like a good girl and let them believe your outburst were over. And when they least expected it you could figure out what the hell was going on here. You lifted your head up slightly when you heard the door open after someone twist the lock, deciding to pay you a visit. “Hey!” You shouted at the nurse who had checked you in here, and the one who had caught you and the boys in the morgue just the previous night. She was all too happy for your liking as she stepped inside solitary confinement with a smile and shut the door behind her. “Let me go!”

“No can do.” Nurse Happy said. She slipped the keys into her pocket and examined her palm for a moment, a smile spreading across her lips at how her wound was healing up nicely after Martin slashed her with the envelope opener. But she was safe now as she began walking forward to you, the Winchesters were nothing more than a babbling idiots who would become afraid of their own shadow. She would feast on them later. For now, she had a snack waiting for her. “You are far too angry to be out there in the real world.”

You gave you a dirty look at her remark as she stood over you with her hands on her hips. You slowly looked over at the security mirror that was off in the corner of the room. Narrowing your eyes slightly, you noticed that Nurse Happy wasn’t here to check your vitals. You looked back at her to see the hideous face in the reflection was nothing compared to what you saw with the naked eye. “You.” You hissed at the nurse.

“Of course it’s me.” She said with a smile you wanted to punch right off her face. Nurse Happy began to take slow steps around the bed, circling you like her trapped prey she enjoyed seeing squirm. She liked it better when you continued on letting that anger boil, it would only make your brains taste even sweeter for her. “I got to say, you hunters don’t exactly live up to your rep. I mean, Martin’s a wreck. He’s harmless. And you and your friends come in here, talking tough about killing monsters? Kind of made you easy to spot. Then all it took was a touch…and you were mine.”

You thought back to the examination she had given you before you had gotten in here, she the subtle touches of the arm when she took your blood pressure, her remark about how high it was. She marked you without you realizing it. She made you see all those things.

“Oh, I love it in here. This place is my own personal five-star restaurant.” Nurse Happy said. She circled around your bed until she stopped at the head of it. Crouching down to her level, she lightly traced a finger across your forehead, gathering a bit of sweat that had been perspiring to do the work you were putting yourself through to get out of here. She licked her finger and gave herself a bit of a taste to what you were going to be. From the noises she was making, the nurse wasn’t going to be disappointed. “Mmm. Crazy brains—they get soaked in dopamine and adrenaline and just all sorts of hormones and chemicals that make them delicious. And the crazier they are, the better they taste. I think you’re gonna be the best one I’ve ever had, sugar.”

“You bitch.” You hissed at her. Everything that you’ve been seeing, how you were acting, it wasn’t because of what happened with Lucifer. Not just yet, at least. She was turning you into a monster, and making you see things that made you feel like you were going crazy. You struggled to get out of the binds, but the effort was useless. “You did this to me!”

“Well…I helped. But that rage? No, no, no, no. That’s all you.” Nurse Happy said as she put her hands up into a defensive position from the accusation. She pushed herself up to her feet, making you awkwardly crank your neck at a certain way to look at her. She circled around your bed once more until she decided to get cozy, taking a seat right next to you. “I don’t make crazy. I just crank up what’s already there. You build your own hell. But I give you the legos. And when you’re ripe…” She reached out and hovered her hand in the air, to reveal her weapon of choice, which also explained how Ted got the marks on his neck. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of what looked to be some kind of sharp skewer she must have used to get the liquid from the brain. You didn’t have much of a fighting chance when she easily turned your head so your neck was for the taking. “I make all of your problems disappear.”

You could feel your hands clench into tight fists, waiting for the enduring pain of what she was going to do to you, but before either one of you could get to the grand finale, you had a couple of visitors. The nurse looked over her shoulder as you glanced up to see it was the brothers coming for your rescue. But seeing them didn’t give you a lot of hope. Sam was leaning himself against the door, trying his hardest to keep his vision focused, as Dean looked like he had just ran a few miles. He was covered in sweat as he couldn’t keep himself much in a standing position without wobbling. But they had enough sanity left to save the day.

“You get away from her!” Dean yelled at the wraith.

Nurse Happy wasn’t too scared at a couple of hunters that barely could keep themselves on their feet. She let out a sigh and pushed herself to her feet again. “Do you really think this is gonna end well for you, boys?”

“No.” Dean admitted. He reached a hand into his pocket to pull out the knife that he still had, Sam wasn’t too far as he gathered whatever strength he had left to show the wraith they weren’t going to go down without a fight. “But I’m crazy, so what the hell.”

Nurse Happy decided that it wouldn’t be a fair fight if she brought her own weapons to a knight fight, so she put them away for now, deciding she would use them later. Her lips stretched into a smirk as she looked over at the boys, thinking to herself of how big of a feast she was going to have. Dean gave her a deathly glare before he charged at her, trying his attempt at stabbing her with the knife that he had. But the nurse used his weakened state against him. She threw a punch and knocked the knife out of his grip, making it drop to the ground. As she tossed Dean to the wall, Sam tried his chance at taking her down. Yet he was getting progressively worse than Dean was. He fought for a chance at stabbing her with the knife that he had, but the nurse flicked him off like a piece of lint on her clothes.

Sam was a lot like you, he had his inner demons that made him a prime target for the wraith. He was far too gone as he tried to get himself up from the floor. Nurse Happy wasn’t too scared as she focused her attention on Dean, who was attempting to get himself to focus again as he shook off the punches he had previously gotten to beat him down. The wraith easily took down the man when he attempted at harming her with the knife. She grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall, deciding that he would be the first to go, and you would watch this unfold. With a tight grip on his neck, she lifted up her hand, revealing her dangerous looking blade of her own.

She didn’t break a sweat when she started to slowly drag the pointer to Dean’s forehead. The man struggled as he managed to grab her by the wrist, but she fought back by making the skewer even longer, giving just a few inches of wiggle room. Dean grunted in frustration as he tried working through everything that was happening all at once. He felt the sharp pointer press against his skin, making him realize that he had little time to figure out how to get out of his own, and, like an idiot, he realized that his other hand was free. Dean didn’t take a second to think about it when he took his free hand to grab ahold of the skewer. He tried to push her away, only he accidentally snapped off the weapon, sending a stream of blood to come from her wound as the wraith screamed on the top of her lungs at what he did. Dean glanced down to see that he was holding a piece of what he was presuming her bone as she tried tending to the bleeding wound that was gushing out blood. Sam looked over at his brother to see what he’d done. Both of them shared a look of discomfort at what happened as Dean slightly started to gag slightly.

“Damnit, you guys!” You yelled at them, trying your hardest to get yourself free. But you were stuck here, leaving your life to somehow be saved by Beavis and Butthead, as usual. You were just hoping they were getting themselves back to their normal mindstate after the wraith didn’t have her magic wand anymore to control. “Focus!”

It seemed your warning was enough for the boys to get themselves to figure out what the hell was going on. Sam snapped out of it first, he reached for the knife that was close to his side as Dean dropped whatever he was holding and bent down to snatch it up from the ground. You watched as the both of them worked together as a team. Dean used the wraith’s moment of weakness against her when he raced to attack her, while she used her aggression to try and kill him, Sam wasn’t going to let that happen. Sam swung up his arm as his brother followed in his actions. Dean stabbed the nurse directly into her chest, as Sam shoved his knife into her back, giving little thought that she was dead. The wraith let out her dying breath as her wounds started to exhale puffs of smoke. She wobbled around on her feet until she fell to the wall, and slowly, descended to the floor. You stared at her, taking notice of how she just looked into the void, the blank look in her eye was enough to know that she was dead.

“You guys still crazy?” You asked a moment of silence, letting the boys come back to reality.

“Not anymore than usual.” Dean said, giving you reassure that him and his brother were back to their normal selves. You let out a sigh of relief and rested your head against the pillow, happy to see they were slowly descending back down to earth. Sam headed over to the bed as Dean began working on the straps to your hands. Both of them worked quickly as they could to get you free, knowing you had very little time until the staff was going to realize there was a dead body. And Wendy, the woman they thought was the real culprit, was wounded, only the doctors thought it was the boys and Martin. “We got to get out of here.”

“Yeah.” You agreed with him. You sat up in bed when your hands were free and rubbed your wrists, taking a moment to tend to the aching muscles. Sam worked on the last restraint on your ankle, but before he could loosen the leather, all of you became frozen in your position at the alarm that suddenly started blaring through the hospital. “Well, that ain’t good.”

\+ + +

You and the boys managed to find your freedom. You raced through the halls fast as you could, dodging any sort of setback that might give your chance at making an escape any harder. Dean found a back door entrance that lead you to the outside parking lot, all of you were in the clear with just a little bit more of a run to go. You heard the door slam shut behind you as you followed behind the brothers, Dean taking the lead as all of you ran out of the hospital fast as you could. It was sort of freeing to be running from the joint, like you were breaking out of prison. As you started to slowly drop your pace to a slight jog, you noticed the Impala came into view. Where it had been staying over the past few days.

“Well, looks like Tom Cruise was right. Shrinks suck.” Dean said as he started heading to his baby that he was happy to see after the past two days of this stressful hunt. He snatched the keys from his robe pocket and headed for the driver’s side as Sam followed behind to his normal spot in the Impala. As Dean looked over his shoulder, he stopped for a moment when he noticed you were just standing there, not giving a chance to bust from your spot. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N,” Sam looked at you with a concerned expression, “You okay?”

“No.” You could have lied straight through your teeth, like you normally did, but everything that you’ve witnessed…what you’ve felt over the past few days, had started creeping back into your mind. You stood there with a guilty look on your face as you shook your head slowly. “No, the wraith—”

“What about her, Y/N?” Dean asked you.

“She was right.” You mumbled with a quiet tone.

“No, she wasn’t. She’s dead, okay?” Dean told you with a serious tone. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to see you starting to feel guilty at what you’ve done. You didn’t care about his impatience that he had towards you right now. “Let’s hit the road. I need a drink. Or twelve.”

“Most of the time I can hide it, I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen. I mean, nobody really wants to hear about your problems. If you’re sad or if you’re upset. You just put on a smile and pretend everything’s okay. But…guys, I’m not. I’m not happy. And I’m not scared. I’m just—I’m angry.” You told the brothers how you truly felt, partly knowing you had admitted a few things to them while you were under the influence of the mood stabilizers. You were sick and tired of keeping secrets from them. It wasn’t going to help. “I’m mad at everything. I mean, it’s normal to get upset at the smallest things. I used to be at my mom for what she did to me. I used to be mad at John because of what he did to you guys. And then it was you and Sam…but then it was Lilith. Now it’s Lucifer. A-And I lie to you guys all the time. I’m not okay. There’s something in me and it’s changing me. And it scares me to death. What if I’m not strong enough to stop myself from becoming into a demon?”

"Okay, stop.” Dean spoke up after a moment of silence, trying to soak up what you were saying to him. You rolled your eyes when he took a few steps forward to you, trying to dismiss this conversation, trying his hardest to keep the problems that he was facing from getting larger. “Y/N, just—”

“Stop trying to dismiss the problem, Dean. It’s there. And this isn’t going away.” You cut him off before he could try and avoid this conversation. You looked at him dead in the eye and shook your head slightly, he watched as your eyes glazed over, not from the sadness, but from pure frustration of constantly trying to be something that you weren’t anymore. “You boys have done a lot of screwed up things. Torturing souls, being addicted to demon blood. We all have our vices. But nothing’s compared to what I have resting on my shoulders. The things that I’ve done…it scares me of violent I can be without an ounce of remorse. This can’t be cured by locking me up or saving people’s lives. You can’t change who I am. I’m the reason why Lucifer’s free, why this apocalypse is even happening. And you know how it makes me feel? Angry. And I can’t stop it.”

“So what if you are a little pissed off? What are you gonna do, take a leave of absence?” Dean asked you. You furrowed your brow from his questions. He wasn’t comforting you with a gentle touch. The man was being blunt. He was telling you to pick yourself up by the strap of your boot heels and suck it up. “You gonna go waltzing off and let Lucifer finish the job? What?”

“No, of course not.” You said with a bit of surprise. “I—”

“Exactly.” Dean told you. “And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna take all that crap, and you’re gonna bury it. You’re gonna forget about it…because that’s how we keep going. That’s how we don’t end up like Martin!”

“That’s exactly how you end up like Martin!” You snapped at him, not liking how he was treating you. How you viewed of dealing with a problem was far very different to how you thought it should be handled. “This is serious, Dean. This isn’t about a hunt gone wrong or some stupid crap we get sad about. You let it bury up after so long, it’s gonna get worse and worse.”

"You’ve survived this far without snapping or turning into one of those sons of bitches. You’ve survived Ella’s death, Hell, death, the demon blood. You’re still standing here, sweetheart. Who’s to say you can’t handle this for a little while longer?” Dean asked you. You looked over at him, finding that his tone had softened a bit, and he was staring at you with more of a compassionate stare. You let out a sigh, partly knowing he was right. “We can deal with this. But you need to be with me and Sam one hundred percent of the way. Y/N, are you with us?”

You looked at the two men in front of you for a few seconds. Maybe Dean was right about dealing with this. All of you have been through a lot of things. And it wasn’t like you would feel like this all the time. Feelings were temporary. You were going to have good days, and you were going to have bad ones. You just needed to surround yourself with people that would be there to catch you. Inhaling a deep breath, you slowly nodded your head, trying your hardest to pretend that you were okay. That you were willing to hold on for a little bit longer until you could discuss this a little bit better. Besides, right now wasn’t the best time.

“I’m with you.” You whispered to them.

“Good.” Dean responded, nodding his head. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

You and the boys headed for the Impala without any other words being spoken. Slipping yourself into the backseat, you sank into the leather seats and heard the familiar roar of the Impala’s engine. All three of you drove off into the night, leaving the hospital as nothing more as a small spot in the rear view mirror. Like most of your problems, you and the boys handled it by pretending like it wasn’t there, distracting yourself with things like hunting and drinking. You leaned backwards and let out a quiet sigh, shutting your eyes, you had a feeling this little problem wasn’t going to be as easy to run from. But you’d be damned if you weren’t going to try.


	12. Swap Meat.

Meeting somebody from the Winchester’s past wasn’t by pure coincidence, there was always a reason behind it that called attention to the pesky supernatural when it started causing all sorts of trouble. You sat in the living room of Donna Turner, a woman, now in her early forties, who had known the boys since they were still in their awkward teen years. They told you a bit about her during the ride here to Massachusetts after they gotten a phone call from her just the previous day. Unfortunately she wasn’t calling after over a decade later to see how the boys were doing. It seemed that trouble had followed the woman after she bought a house not too long ago, and she was in need of some help of fixing it up. It was a quaint little farm house not too far out from town. The foundation looked to be well over a few centuries from what you could see, you were sure it’d seem some things during its time after being built.

You gave a polite smile to Donna when she came back from the kitchen with a tray full of glasses and a pitcher of fresh lemonade she insisted on pairing with the chocolate chip cookies she made conveniently made right before you and the boys gotten here. You would gladly take any chance to eat something that was a scratch of homemade. You could only eat so much fast food before the taste of fries and beer became a trigger for your stomach to vomit.

“Dean and Sammy Winchester.” Donna sat herself down on the couch next to her daughter, who had to be just about twelve. She gave the boys a smile as she adjusted a stack of paper napkins on the table to her liking. “So, how long has it been?”

“The summer before sixth grade.” Sam said. You looked over at the man sitting to the right of you, a smile spreading across your lips in amusement from what Donna had brought up.

“Mhmm. I remember.” Donna nodded her head as she let out a soft chuckle from the faint memory that felt like ages ago. “You assigned yourself your own reading list.”

Dean let out a laugh from the memory of his little brother being a nerd even since he was younger. The only thing that changed was he gotten taller in height, only by a inch or toe. “That’s right. I forgot about that.” He said. You looked over at the older Winchester just in time for the man to roll his eyes slightly, wondering how he still managed to stay the same after all these years. Without Donna or Sam looking, he turned his head to look at you, he made a smile creep at the ends of your lips when he pointed a finger at his baby brother and mouthed, “Nerd.”

“Your mom happens to be the best babysitter we’ve ever had.” Sam didn’t even realize what had been going on between you and his brother. The man turned his attention to Katie to talk about one of the very many people that had watched over them during the course of growing up in the world of hunting. What you had heard about her, she was quite the lady, her homemade meals were to die for and she knew how to patch up a wound, too.

“Well, when I was a maid at the Mayflower, out on the interstate—long before you were even an idea—their daddy would pass through town, he would leave the boys with me to…work.” Donna explained to her daughter, trying to word this just right so she wouldn’t give it all away. Katie listened with interest, your mind lingered to the idea of the boys being so young, and being left with strangers while John went off to save the day. “One time, he was gone for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Katie asked, taken back from how long their father had been absent in their lives. If only she knew that was a regular occurrence.

“Oh, he always came limping back.” Donna said as she took a sip of her lemonade before putting it back down on the table. She wiped the perspiration on her jeans and looked at the boys with a faint smile, remembering the news of John’s passing when you first got here. It felt like forever ago to you, but it’d been only three years. “He loved you boys.”

People showed love in very different ways, John sure had a very strange way of expressing it to his children. The boys turned her heads slightly, as if they were trying to look at one another, but each of them returned their gaze the spot on the door. Katie’s question broke the silence that could have turned awkward she continued on, slightly curious herself to find out more about this man. “What did he do for all that time?”

“Little Sammy kept tried to tell me. But, of course, I didn’t believe him.” Donna said. She fell quiet for a moment when she looked away from her daughter and to the younger Winchester that sat right across from her. It always took an encounter for the daunting reality to set in. “Not at first, at least.”

“Katie,” You swallowed the last of the cookie you had been silently munching on as the three took a few minutes to get caught up. You gave the girl a smile when she looked over at you. “My mom and their dad happened to be experts at getting rid of ghosts. And now, so are we.”

“That’s why I called them, sweetie. So they can help us.” Donna reached over and squeezed her daughter’s knee in reassurance that everything was going to be all right. These past few weeks haven’t been the easiest on the family, but with you and the boys here, it wouldn’t take too much time before they could return to their normal lives.

“Sounds like you guys got yourself a poltergeist.” Dean said. You looked over to the doorway that lead to the hallway to see Donna’s husband coming back from upstairs with a few suitcases and other luggage all three of them would need.

“It started a month or two after we moved in.” He said, Donna nodded her head slightly at what her husband had brought up.

“It started with knocks and bumps, and scratches on the walls. And then it started breaking things.” Donna caught you and the boys about what had been going on here, all typical signs of a nasty spirit in the making. But that’s not why you were here. You looked over at Donna’s daughter, who was now clutching the crocheted blanket closer to her body when you mentioned about her attack. She remained seated, hesitant to show you and the boys the evidence. “Could you show them, honey?”

Katie let out a quiet sigh, she removed the blanket and stood up, you watched as she lifted up her shirt to reveal a nasty looking wound. You leaned out of your seat slightly more to read what was cut into her stomach. “‘Murdered chylde’?” You muttered underneath your breath, wondering what it could have meant. Your eyes wandered until to Katie when she took a seat next to her mother again, the fear starting to creep into her face st what was going on here. You gave her a small smile of reassure. “Katie, everything’s gonna be just fine. The boys and I are gonna make sure this things gets gone so it doesn’t hurt you again. We promise.”

“Why don’t you guys take yourselves a little vacation, and uh,” Dean suggested to the couple as he looked at the both of them. “We’ll take care of this.”

Donna let out a sigh of relief from what you were doing for her, “Thank you.”

\+ + +

After checking into the nearest motel, you and the boys decided it wouldn’t hurt to grab some lunch and discuss what you might be looking at suspects for this poltergeist. You fussed around with what at your disposal as you sat at the end of the table, leaving you between the boys and giving you a clear view of the counter right across from the diner. Your stomach growled in anticipation when Dean went up to get your food. Despite you getting sick and tired of fast food, when you hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning since you had spent it driving. That cookie would only hold you over for so long. You would eat anything that was put in front of your face. Sam decided to work on a bit more of research after you gave him a list of people who had previously owned the house prior to Donna and her husband.

Dean came back a few moments later with your tray full of food, and before he could even sit down in his chair, you were eagerly grabbing your food as Sam reached out for his salad in a cup, not even bothering to look up from the screen. “Okay, answer me this. How do you eat the way you do,” You looked up to see that Dean was pointing to your food, which was greasy and cheesy, as his brother was the one who had chosen the healthier side of things. Hunting was psychical, from the digging up graves and beating the crap out of monsters that were trying to kill you. But compared to the boys, you had it a bit easier. “And still look the way you are?”

“I think it’s my good genetics. And I heard sex burns a lot of calories, too.” You remarked as you reached out a hand to snatch one of Dean’s chili fries from the paper basket when he wasn’t looking. Sam glanced up from the laptop screen for a second as he poured the dressing into his cup. Obviously, he wasn’t the least bit amused as you were about a fact you had read in one of those fashion magazines that offered advice to spice up your love life. Which you sure didn’t have a problem with. Sam went back to his research as he put the lid back to his cup. You began to rip off the paper later of the straw, but you stopped when Sam began virtuously rattling the salad, causing you to look at him with an annoyed look. “Oh, you shake it up, baby.”

“You know, poltergeist aside,” Dean started to eat his food, but he stopped himself from taking the first bite of his burger to casually turn the conversation back around to the woman whom he haven’t seen in well over a decade. You looked up from your food and raised a brow slightly from what you heard. “Donna looks pretty good, don’t you think?”

“Dude, don’t tell me you still got the hots for our babysitter.” Sam said. He remembered fondly of his fifteen year old brother, who was nothing short of obsessed of the much younger woman. You could believe that, even after all this time, the boys were still the same people.

“What? No. That’s weird.” Dean defended himself when he heard you let out a soft chuckle. “I’m just saying that she, you know, she—she’s still doing good. You know, with her husband, her kid. This whole Amityville thing being thrown at them, and they’re still hanging in strong.”

“Yeah. She seems like a cool woman.” You said, shrugging your shoulders as you shoved the straw into your cup. “Even with everything that has been going on with them. “I feel bad for poor Katie. But she looks like she’s doing good. And they make a cute family, too.”

"You think you would ever want something like that?“

You mindlessly reached for a plastic fork off the tray, but Dean’s question made you freeze directly in your spot. Nobody had really talked about what life would be like if you were normal. No open road as your only home, endless motels and constantly fighting for your lives to see another day. You had been the most normal out of the three of you, but that was taken away when you were teenager, and life hadn’t been perfect since. Sam had only known the absence of his father and the love of other strangers, endless schools and learning things that people thought were fictional as his normality. He gotten a taste of the good life when he quit hunting and went to Stanford for a few years, but that was short lived when Jess died. Dean had a few blissful years of living back in Kansas with his baby brother and very faint memories of Mary, before everything turned to crap and he had to be more than just a little kid at the age of five.

You wouldn’t admit it, but you’ve thought of what life would be like if there was no hunting. You wondered if you and the boys could be back in Lawrence, Kansas again with your parents still alive as the three of you would live across from the street with each other. You could have had the memories of walking to school together, enjoying holidays and slowly falling in love with Dean like how it should’ve been. Maybe at this point of your life you could be married together, have the perfect career and even popped out a few babies. But that was just pure fantasy. Your life was motel rooms and the occasional backseat of the Impala, stealing people’s’ identities so you could seat in grubby places like this and fighting monsters that wanted you dead. It was your life that you’ve chosen, and you’ve grown to accept that the social normality would never be for you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, pretending to play dumb as you stabbed your food.

"To get married, have a couple rugrats, the whole nine?” Dean wondered.

“No.” Sam admitted, not needing to give it much thought as he shrugged his shoulders. It hadn’t been that long ago where he tried to shed off the idea of spending the rest of his life hunting, and Dean was doing anything to get the man to believe this was how it was supposed to be. Now, the shoe was on the other foot. “I mean, not really my thing anymore.”

You played around with your food for a little bit before you got the courage to look up and stare at Dean, wondering where all of this was coming from. Both of you had made accidental eye contact with one another. Dean hadn’t been very vocal about wanting to see where life would take him if he decided to quit hunting. It wasn’t him. The man embraced the hunting lifestyle and had gotten comfortable with the idea of dying on the job. It was just how it was meant to be. You wondered where this new side was coming from, and why he would bring it up today.

“What do you got?” You broke concentration away from the oldest Winchester and back to Sam, pretending nothing had happened as you asked him about research.

"Uh, well, that hours of theirs, it’s old—really old. Um, hundreds of years. And I found a legend. It’s unconfirmed, but still.“ Sam said, telling you all about what he learned. You mentioned your arm for him to continue on as you put the plastic fork between your lips and chewed on your food. He turned the laptop around so you and Dean could silently skim the article that he had found talking all about a possible lead for the three of you. "Supposedly, in the 1720s, house was owned by a guy named Isaiah Pickett. Legend has it he hung a woman in his backyard for witchcraft—a woman named Maggie Briggs.”

“Okay,” You mumbled as you swallowed down the food. You dropped the fork to your food and wiped your hands clean so you could scroll through the article without getting any crumbs on the keyboard. “So an angry ghost witch?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders and turned his laptop around, wanting to finish his last bit of work before you could ruin his laptop with unnecessary leftovers from your lunch. “If it’s true. That still doesn’t explain what ‘murdered chylde’ means.”

“No.” Dean agreed with his brother. “Or where the bitch is buried.”

"You know, I mean, it’s a long way back, but I can see if I can find something in the town records if you want to keep on searching through the internet, Y/N.” Sam suggested to you.

You shrugged your shoulders at the idea and nodded your head, thinking it couldn’t hurt. Both of you would have better chances if you tackled two different methods. You went back to eating for a minute as the conversation died between all of you. As you reached the fork back up to your lips, you glanced up for a moment when you felt like someone was staring at you. You looked straight ahead to see the kid behind the counter was looking in the direction of you and the boys. You brushed it off as nothing, silently thinking to yourself that the kid’s parents didn’t teach him that staring was rather rude.

\+ + +

“So, any luck?”

“Bubkes.” Sam admitted from the other side of the phone after he called you. You leaned further against the strangely comfortable pillows that you’d been blued to since arriving back at the motel a handful of hours ago. You let out a quiet sigh as you reached to rub your tired eyes staring at the laptop screen and reading at least fifty deeds to the house Donna now owned to see if you could figure out another possible suspect if this witch turned out to be wrong. But everyone that you had checked out seemed too squeaky cleaned, or had a past that didn’t match what you were looking for. “Can’t even find proof a woman named Maggie Briggs existed, much less where she was planted.”

“Okay. Well, we’ve got a minute to breathe here.” You said. You tilted your head to the side as you took a moment to rub your tense shoulders. Hearing the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the motel room, you quietly observed Dean watching the television on a low volume so he wouldn’t disturb you. A small smile spread across your lips at his thoughtfulness. “Let’s pick it up first thing.”

You mumbled a goodbye to Sam as you shut the cell phone and tossed it to the end of the bed where your bare feet had been occupied after you freely kicked off your shoes after you and Dean had arrived back at their room. You spent a few more moments of browsing through a few more deeds before you felt the other side of the bed dip from the weight being shifted on it. You didn’t have to look away from the screen to know that it was Dean. The TV still quietly hummed in the background, but his attention was solely on you, he watched as you diligently worked on finding any sort of lead that could be a possible one of this Maggie Briggs turned out to be nothing more than just some hoax.

“Was that Sam?” He asked, you nodded your head to answer him as you continued on typing away on your keyboard. Dean got himself a bit more comfortable on the bed as he shifted his arm so it was draped over your shoulder. The two of you sat in silence for a bit longer, that was, until Dean decided to change the subject to something a bit out of the blue. “So, how have you been feeling?”

“Fine.” You answered him without much thought. You expected him to just leave the answer as is, not really sure what he wanted you to say. The silence that followed afterwards made you turn your gaze away from the screen to see that Dean was staring at you, a sigh fell not far from your lips when you knew what the look was all about. “I’m fine. Really.”

Dean raised his brow slightly, “You sure?”

"Yes, I’m sure.“ You reassured him as you rolled your eyes from his overprotective behavior that had been seeming to grow even stronger since the wraith case. Since you lost control and told the boys everything about what had been going on over the past few months. You turned your head to look away from Dean and back to your laptop, wanting to go through all of these documents before Sam got back. It was getting late and you were tired. Your fingers lingered on the keyboard to start typing again, but then again, you suddenly remembered the conversation you and the boys had earlier today. “What triggered this whole…quest for a normal life?”

"Oh, Donna just got me thinking. That’s all.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders at your question. It was your turn to look at the man with a bit of a worried expression. If you thought things had been bad for you, it was a million times worse for Dean. The fate of the world had rested on his and Sam’s shoulders. He might have thought about this before, it was natural, but you were curious to see what really sparked his ambition to ask the question. He’d never expressed his true feelings to you before when the both of you were alone. Maybe he decided to see if his little brother still had the same feelings. It was his turn to look at you and say, “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

\+ + +

The walk from the motel room to the library should have taken Sam fifteen minutes, no less. A few more since his legs were so much longer than yours. But it’d been two and a half hours since he had told you he was on his way back. You and Dean gotten worried that something might have happened to the man, so you did the most logical thing, you began looking around town to see if you could find him anywhere. Dean said you were overreacting, but after looking at every possible place where Sam might have been, and after checking around the library at least three times, the man was missing. You wondered what the hell could have happened for the man.

The both of you arrived back at the motel after you decided the next best thing to do was track his phone to see where he could have been at. You tapped your foot impatiently against the concrete sidewalk as Dean unlocked the door to the motel room when you remembered your laptop was still in their room. As the door swung open, you stepped inside right after Dean. But you only made it into the doorway before you were crashing into him, getting a face first of his leather jacket.

“Sam.” Dean spoke the name which you had been worried about. You roughly shoved the older Winchester into the room to see what was going on yourself. A scowl wasn’t far from stretching across your face when you saw Sam in the flesh, looking absolutely fine. “Where the hell you been, man? Y/N and I have been trying to call you for hours.”

“I picked up some food.” Sam said. You loudly slammed the door shut to express his anger, not only for his weak excuse, but from what he’d put you through over the past few hours. Sam wasn’t this stupid. And food sure as hell wasn’t going to make you forgive him. He headed over to the dresser to pick up a paper bag and hand it over to you as a peace offering gift. You looked to see that it was from the same restaurant you ate at earlier. You grimaced at the thought of eating the same meal twice in one day. “Bacon burger turbo, large chili-cheese fry, right?”

“You boys are disgusting.” You muttered underneath your breath, shaking your head when Dean shrugged off his leather jacket and snatched the bag out of his brother’s hands, not seeming to mind the idea of eating his favorite meal all over again. Bacon cheeseburgers is really what the man only ate.

“Sorry, guys. Really.” Sam apologized yet again. You watched as he reached for the button up shirt he’d been wearing earlier today that he always paired with one of his v neck shirts that he wore underneath. You gave him a funny look, wondering why he’d been standing in the mirror with just his shirt on in the first place. “I-I just—I lost track of time. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Thanks. Don’t know why it took you two hours,” Dean said. He opened up the bag and peered inside to look at the contents before looking at his brother as he reached inside to grab the burger that was just calling his name. “But thanks.”

“Oh, you’re gonna want to eat that on the road.” Sam stopped the man from enjoying his very late dinner. You gave the younger man a confused look, wondering why. He nodded his head to the array of weapons Dean had been previously cleaning while he watched TV earlier in the night, not caring to put them away. As you made it a strict priority to keep your privacy away from the help of the hotels and other civilians. But it seemed that Sam had forgotten all about that rule. “The maid came in, saw those, and now they’re all kind of freaking out.”

"What the hell, Sam?“ You questioned the younger Winchester. "Why’d you let the maid in?”

“It just happened.” Sam said, trying to defend himself.

“Whatever.” Dean said as he didn’t give much more thought about his brother’s behavior that seemed way out of character for him tonight. “I got to hit the head, and then we’ll take off.”

"All right.“ Sam said. He watched his brother discard the bag to the bed for a moment before he headed for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. “I’ll be outside.”

You headed over to the motel bed where Sam had claimed as his own, and you had been occupying just a few hours before. You bent over to snatch the laptop from the bed, not thinking much about it as you pulled over the very expensive object. You were about cradle it into the crook of your arms, but you stopped for a moment, suddenly that feeling settled into your head again, like someone was watching you. Furrowing your brow ever so slightly, you slowly looked over your shoulder to see what Sam was doing, wondering quietly to yourself if it was just paranoia that you were just randomly having. You didn’t think much about it, that was, until you spotted Sam. His eyes weren’t focused on anything that was particularly important when you noticed he was staring in your direction. It took you a second or two to comprehend what he was doing.

You snatched the laptop from your bed and quickly stood back up, trying to shake the idea that Sam was staring, out of anything, your ass for that matter. Maybe he was just zoning out. It happens. You didn’t say anything to him as you brushed past him and reached the door. As your free hand reached to touch the doorknob, you stopped yourself for a second, deciding to see if your theory was wrong. You looked over at the young man, only to see, yet again, he’d been watching as you walked straight for the door. When you looked at the man straight in the eye to call him out on it, Sam realized what he’d done, but instead of apologizing for it, he gave you a smile as he wiggled his eyebrows slightly. Your mouth parted open slightly at his behavior that didn’t seem to be all like him. You quietly scoffed underneath your breath as you rolled your eyes. Opening up the door, you stepped outside, all before loudly slamming the door shut behind you.

\+ + +

"Doesn’t he seem…off?”

“Like Lucifer jumped his bones on the way home?”

You stopped in your tracks in the middle of the parking lot at the joke that Dean had made, not the least bit amused at his terrible joke. You pushed the strap to the duffel bag you hastily had packed closer up your shoulder when you felt it beginning to slip. “I’m serious, Dean.” You said. You didn’t dare mention what had gone down in the motel room. Maybe it’d been all in your mind. Maybe you were onto something. It was the end of days, you didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore with you three. “There’s something going on with Sam. The last time he went missing without a trace he got possessed by a demon.”

“That was a few years ago, way before we got these bad boys. And Meg’s too busy these days doing whatever her daddy is telling her to do. You’re just overthinking this, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s fine.” Dean reassured you. You didn’t soften your worried gaze as you slowly looked over at the Impala, where Sam had been sitting by himself over the past few minutes. Dean leaned down and lightly kissed you on the lips, making you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling for the few seconds that it lasted before the both of you headed to the car. You opened up the backseat and tossed your things into the seat before slipping yourself inside. Dean swung open the driver’s side door and peered inside to his little brother. “Hey. You ready?”

"Absolutely.“ Sam said. Dean turned his head slightly to look at you, proving that he was right about his brother. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Dean got himself into his usual position and fetched the keys from his leather jacket. As he got himself ready to slip the key into the ignition, Sam did, what you felt, was a little out of the ordinary. "Can I drive?”

Dean seemed a little taken back from the request, but he really didn’t see what the problem was when he tossed them to his brother’s awaiting hands. In just a few moments the brothers had switched from their usual positions. Sam turned on the ignition and listened to the purrs of Baby’s engine, something in which he shouldn’t have been so impressed with, but it made a grin spread across his lips as he clutched the steering wheel. “Oh, this is so sweet!”

Sam decided to have his fun while the car was in park when he pressed down on the pedal a few times to make the engine rev to life. It went on for a few seconds before Dean got tired of this little act. “You want to get the lead out, Andretti? Come on.” Dean said, ushering his brother to start making some progress of finding a new motel while all of you were still young. Sam nodded his head as he reached to switch the gears. But it wasn’t the one to go forward. “Reverse.” Dean warned him once, but Sam stepped on the gas pedal. “Reverse!” But the second warning was no use, the younger Winchester only pressed harder, making the Impala fly backwards, and land directly into the dumpster behind you. You could feel yourself being flung back from the force, making you roughly hit the back of your head against the seat before Sam slammed on the breaks. Dean stared at his little brother, with what looked to be more vicious than the bitch face the two of them always put on each other. Between clenched teeth, Dean announced it just one more time. “It’s in reverse.”

“What the hell, Sam?!” You couldn’t help yourself when you yelled on the top of your lungs. You gave the younger man a dirty expression as you rubbed the back of your head. He peered over his shoulder to give you an apologetic smile. You exhaled out loudly from your nose. “Did you happen to hit your head on the way back? Is that why you’re acting like such an idiot?”

“I’m so, so sorry.” Sam tried to apologize as he got out of the driver’s side to switch spots with his brother. Dean didn’t want to hear any of it. He just rolled his eyes and told his brother to shut up. When everything returned to normal, Dean took his rightful place behind the wheel. Shifting the gear into drive, he slammed his foot on the gas pedal, sending you forward.

\+ + +

“This is Y/N’s other, other phone. You know what to do.”

“Y/N, I’ve called every phone we got. I thought you would have picked up by now.” Sam said, hoping if you had heard this message in time you would able to detect the frustration in his voice. He stood in the full length mirror of a room he’d never seen before, and staring at a face that wasn’t his. Something was wrong, very wrong. “So…this is gonna sound crazy—really crazy—but, um…I think I’m in the wrong body. Could use a little help here.” He turned away from the mirror and moved the phone away from his ear, contemplating for a moment if he wanted to end the message there, but he noticed something else that he decided to share with you. If you would believe the much higher pitched voice was really his. “I think I got asthma. Call me back.”

Letting out a faint sigh when he heard the beep of the end of the voicemail recording, Sam ended the call and looked at the mirror once more. The boy staring back at him was much shorter than he was, a teenager from the looks of it, and barely could lift anything above his head. It reminded him of Sam when he was still a kid. He was a scrawny thing when he first started high school, barely even tall enough to hit the shoulder of Dean. But at the end, thanks to hunting, he was just a few inches higher than his brother, which ticked him off to no end. Sam punched in the number to the motel that you and Dean were staying in, hoping that he was able to catch you there. 

“Lucky Star Motel.”

“Hello, uh,” Sam tried to remember the room number as he spoke to the person working the desk this early morning. “Could you please connect me to room 102 or 104?”

“102 and 104? Nah, man, they checked out in the middle of the night.” The motel managed said. Sam caught the man’s use of the word plural, so he asked him about that. “Yeah, room 102—one leather jacket, one Sasquatch. 104…right. And the hot chick. They left.”

Sam slowly reached his thumb to end the call, the information wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He looked directly into the mirror again, suddenly realizing that this kid, whoever he was, was running around in his body, pretending to be him as he socialized with you and his brother. He took a step forward to the mirror to see if what was happening was real. He stared at his reflection and decided to do a few tests. Reaching up a hand, he wrapped his fingers around his chin, moving it to the left and right, his reflection did the same. Whatever he did, the person in the mirror did as well. It took him a moment to realize that Sam Winchester wasn’t quite himself today.

“Who are you?”

\+ + +

Who the hell was Gary Frankel?

Sam spent all morning trying to figure out the answer to that very important question. He searched through every spot he could find, from the shelves full of comic books and other little toys that he kept in mint condition in a hard plastic container. He crouched down to see the bottom shelf was dedicated to all sorts of notebooks and binders. Pulling out the two biggest ones, Sam read what the kid had labeled them as. One was for “Advanced Placement Chemistry 12” and the other was “Advanced Placement Psychics 12.” It seemed Gary was a bit of a scientific whiz to be taking two very challenging AP classes at the same time during his senior year when most of his classmates would be complaining about senioritis. Sam headed over to the closet to see if he could find any sort of things buried in the back. But all he found was array of hoodies and tshirts dedicated to his favorite sci-fi related media, mostly just Star Wars. Sam scoffed and shoved the hanger back into the closet. It wasn’t hard to conclude the kid was a virgin, for sure.

Moving to underneath the bed, where all kids hid stuff from their nosy parents, Sam pulled out a slim box and dropped it to the comforter. He took off the top and tossed it to the pillows, not really caring where it had landed, he looked down at the contents inside of the box, unsure of what he was going to find. Sam raised his brow slightly to see one of the first things that was lying on top, probably ready for a teenage boy’s disposal for whenever he might need it. He didn’t think skin mags were still a thing with the younger youth. But there laid a copy of “Busty Asians Beauties” with a young woman’s smiling face on the cover. Sam made a correction from what he had prior thought about the kid. He was a very frustrated virgin.

Sam didn’t care for it as he tossed it out to the open as he continued his search through all sorts of crap that Gary kept privately hidden. There was a planner that had what looked to be important dates, a saved newspaper and a baseball. But there was one thing that was lying on top that caught Sam’s attention. It was something not every teenage boy would have hidden with his porn. Sam pulled out a what appeared to be a dagger, but with a closer inspection, it was very much in fact a athame. And the black cloth wrapped around it was something that but it was the black cloth sent the red flag to what could be going on here only higher. A sigh fell from the man’s lips as he laid out the sheer thin blanket to take an inspection of the markings he’d seen. It was pretty clear that this was an alter, but not just any ordinary one from the goat’s head that laid in the middle of the pentagram. Gary was more than just a closeted wiccan. The kid was dabbling in black magic, and he wouldn’t know the consequences of his actions before it was too late.

“Witchcraft, huh, Gary?” Sam muttered underneath his breath as he shook his head in disapproval from what the kid was doing in his free time. The little freak was running around, pretending to be him, which Sam still had yet to figure out why Gary had chosen him. Not to mention, you or Dean probably haven’t gotten the twenty messages he’d left you to try and explain what was going on. Or maybe you didn’t believe him that a seventeen year old kid would have wanted to trade places with him. “You little Satanic bastard.”

“Gary! Breakfast!”

“Leave me alone.” Sam whispered as tossed the alter fabric to the bed. He ignored the command from the kid’s mother. After getting a taste of them last night, Sam had enough of Gary’s parents for a lifetime. They were overbearing, awkward when they tried to punish him for wandering out half the night, and sure didn’t believe it when their oldest son had told them they weren’t his son. There was no way that Sam was going to be sitting through breakfast with those people. He tried to continue on his search, but Mrs. Frankel was insisting on him coming down after she called for him, and this time, even louder. Sam dropped his hands to the bed and let out a frustrated sigh. If he was going to try and figure out this problem without causing too much suspicion, Sam realized that he was going to have to pretend and be this Gary Frankel, much as the thought of being with that family pained him. This was just he would have to put up with on this very, very long day. “All right, I’m coming!”

\+ + +

“So, uh, where we going, again?”

“To work. The case…?”

You let out a yawn from the lack of sleep you had managed to get, thanks to Sam’s shenanigans, that caused you to spend half the night looking for him and then relocate after finding out he was in the motel. It seemed he was keeping up this out of person act from the question he thought was appropriate to ask you before you even had a sip of your caffeine fix. You were hoping for at least just a few hours of sleep before you embarked on the very long day. You and the boys were going to have to travel on foot through most of the graveyards in town to find this body. And maybe if Sam had shown up when he was supposed to, you could have done a bit more research with him. But here you were, strolling to the Impala after getting settled into the new motel just after the sun had rose a little while ago. You brought the cup to your lips and stared at the man to your very left, hoping he would notice your annoyed glare as he tried to act like he knew what Dean was talking about after he answered the man’s question.

“Oh, right. Yeah—the case. Of course.” Sam said. He managed to save himself when he nodded his head, managing to ask a question that was relevant to where the three of you were heading to. You or Dean would never realize what was going on. “Where, uh, do you guys want to start?”

“Well, since you or Y/N couldn’t find where Maggie Briggs was buried, now we have to do an all day tombstone roll.” Dean explained the plan to his little brother. “To see if we can dig her up.”

“Wait. Maggie Briggs? You mean, like—like the witch Maggie Briggs?” Sam asked, as if you were talking about someone completely different. You stopped right next to the backseat of the Impala and looked straight at the man from the other side of the car. All though you would have loved to give him a sarcastic reponse to throw him off his game, you just nodded your head. “Yeah, she’s in the basement.”

“Come again, Sherlock? What basement?” You asked the younger man with a bit of confusion, wondering where this new information had came from when you had struggled to find anything new. Or why he didn’t bring it up last night when you called him after he left the library. “I searched for hours and didn’t read anything about a basement. I thought he hung her.”

“She’s buried in Isaiah Pickett’s house. There’s the legend that says he hung her, but he didn’t.” Sam said, correcting you on what you thought you’d known about this case. “The real truth is that she was carrying his illegitimate child, and he killed her and than buried her in the basement.”

“Her ‘murdered chylde.’ That would explain the scratches.” You muttered underneath your breath as you looked over at Dean. The words that were cut into Katie’s stomach where on her stomach, giving an indication that Maggie wasn’t trying to hurt her, but give a message about her unborn child that was harmed because of this man. Sam might have been onto something that could shut this case for good. But there was something bothering about how he obtained the information so quickly. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

“Oh, I’ve done all kinds of research on it.” Sam said with a growing smile, something he always did when he discussed any sort of new information he could share with you. But you raised your brow and looked at him suspiciously, giving Gary, the real kid just walking in the man’s skin, just mere seconds to cover his tracks before you could question him. “I mean, you know…last night.”

“You said on the phone last night that you couldn’t find anything.” You pointed out to the younger man, calling him out on the mistake that he made. You narrowed your eyes on his from his suspicious behavior as you brought the cup to your lips to take a drink. “Right after you told me you were leaving the library.”

“Yeah…Yeah, I did that.” Sam said. He was thrown off guard from your accusation that could have been true or not, Gary wondered if you were trying to throw him off, but he remembered seeing Sam talking on the phone when he cut his way through the park. That’s when he made his move. The teen felt confident when he decided to go with it and make up some excuse, hoping it would be enough for you to stop staring at him that was making him grow uncomfortably nervous. “But I remembered. There was this book, you see, not a lot of people know about it, and I forgot about it. I went back to see if it was still there and that’s where I found all about the basement. That’s what took me so long getting back, too.”

You shifted your gaze away from the younger man and to the oldest Winchester standing next to you, who was a bit skeptical himself, but the excuse seemed like something his brother would do. Sam was always a stickler about research when he gotten a lead that was hot, sometimes he forgot about the real world around him. “Yeah. Nice work…I guess.” Dean said slowly, seeming to have fallen for the lie, as his mind focused on one little detail of his brother’s mistake. “Just pick up the phone next time, will you?”

“Definitely. Won’t happen again.” Sam agreed, admitting his mistakes.

You watched as Dean brushed off the incident as nothing more than a simple mistake of his little brother’s nerdy behavior by getting himself into the Impala, trusting himself to be alone with the man. Sam opened up the passenger side door, but before he got into his spot next to his brother, he found you still staring at him with that same questionable look. And just like last night in the motel room, Sam acted differently when Dean wasn’t around. He thought a friendly smile would have helped ease your mind that the man was feeling himself. Instead it was more along the lines of something that was more of an attempt to be flirty. You wouldn’t deny that Sam was a handsome man, the Winchesters didn’t lack the bad genes in that family. He could have any woman he wanted with that winning smile of his alone. But this…this was way out character.

His smile was like he was trying his hardest to win you over, but all it came off was like some teenage boy attempt to try and talk to his crush. Your mouth parted open slightly, that urge again to call him out on his weird behavior, but you clenched your fists and swallowed down the feeling, hoping this was your mind playing tricks on you, making you see things that weren’t really there. You slipped yourself into the backseat once more, keeping yourself quiet and averting your gaze away from the rear view mirror, trying to shake the urge before Dean could ask why you looked like you were about to punch someone in the face. The man brushed off the sour expression on your face, thinking it was due to the lack of sleep, and started up the car when Sam slammed the door shut. As the engine roared to life again, the radio Dean had been listening to last night turned back on to some classic rock song that Sam usually wouldn’t be in the mood to hear. Instead, of complaining about it, Sam did the exact opposite of what you expected from him.

“Aw, man, turn it up!” Sam shouted with a grin, eager to hear the song. Dean shifted his head slightly to look at his little brother with a baffled look. He had never expected those words to have ever come out from the man’s mouth, but there he sat in the passenger side, moving in tune with the beat of the rock song. You furrowed your brow as you stared at the younger man. Dean had asked him if he was serious just to be sure. “Hell yeah!”

You expected Dean to catch on to the usual behavior that was being shown in the younger Winchester. Sam wasn’t the type to disappear for hours without telling you or let the maids into the room for cleaning. Sam knew how precious Baby was to Dean, and all though he didn’t drive all the time, he knew how to handle a vehicle without making the rooky mistake of checking the gears. He hated old classic rock songs he didn’t grow up listening to, and he sure didn’t have the balls to try and overstep his boundaries with you. All signs, despite them being tiny, were there to tell you something was seriously wrong. But his brother brushed it off like all of this was just the ordinary cycle of things. Or he would have made a remark the younger man just finally learned how to get the stick that was far wedged up his ass finally out.

\+ + +

The three of you arrived back at the house after getting the lead from Sam that he decided not to tell you about it until this morning. After granting yourself access to the place from the key Donna had left you, the boys followed behind as you made your way to the basement. If Sam was right about this, you could at least thank him for cutting the hunt much shorter than what you were expecting. You reached out a hand to balance yourself on the rickety steps as you descended down to the lower level the house while the flashlight you were holding helped guide you through the darkness. As you made your way down and began walking deeper into the room with Dean following behind, you took notice of the cobwebs of the place and all sorts of things that were collecting dust over the years, probably from previous owners. But you found your search cut off for a moment when you turned your head to look over your shoulder, wondering what had gotten into Sam from his sudden outburst.

“Boo-yah!” Sam shouted as he inappropriately waved around the shotgun to no possible threat in front of him. From the smile on his face, Sam was having the time of his life, acting as if this was his first time going on a salt and burn. “Master chief is in the house, bizatches?”

“Are you all right?” You stopped in your tracks and looked at the man dead in the eye. He nodded his head, telling you that he was fine. You furrowed your brow as you looked at him with more of a concerned expression. But again, you tried brushing off the feeling like something was off with him today, you had important things going on. You headed for the far end of the basement to see what you were expecting to. In a small patch of dirt laid a small bed of moss, your flashlight grazed over it, lighting up the pale green color. “Well, I’ll be damned. Willow moss.”

“Yeah, right. It’s, uh, supposed to grow over witches’ graves, right?” Sam asked, almost as if he wasn’t sure the information that he provided was right. You slowly looked over at Dean, both of you gave one another a bit of a perplexed response, knowing the younger Winchester was more of the brains of this operation when it came to lore. Dean nodded his head at the man, taking a bit of your suspicion into consideration. You could look at Sam with an uneasy look all day, but that wasn’t going to help dig the grave.

Dean dropped the duffel bag to the ground and crouched down to unzip the bag to get out the supplies you would need. You reached out your arm and unwillingly grabbed the shovel from Dean to help with the digging part. This part had been mostly done with the help of Sam, but on the occasion, you would offer to help. But you were starting to have second thoughts from how the younger man was acting today. You bent down to grab the salt contents from the bag when Dean got up himself to start digging up the shallow grave.

“You know Sam,” You grabbed the heavy container of salt as you struggled to keep the shovel in your hand without falling on your face. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to at least help us.” 

“I am helping. I’m admiring this view.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. It seemed the man had no shame when he thought you couldn’t hear his remark that was directed to you. But you did. You looked over your shoulder to see that the man was shamelessly eyeing whatever he could on your body. Yet it didn’t seem to go unnoticed when Dean looked over to see what was causing so much trouble. Sam quickly snapped out of it when his older brother cleared his throat, wondering what the hell was going on. The man managed to save himself by looking around the basement and coming up with the first lie that came to mind. “I’m just looking around this place. It’s pretty neat.”

“Whatever.” You hissed at him.

Turning the anger that was starting to make your blood boil into something more efficient, you decided that Sam could wait a little longer, you had a poltergeist still to deal with. You began digging up the grave with Dean, both of you working fast as you could, and a half an hour into the process, you were seeing bones. You had to stop for a second when you found yourself becoming out of breath as your arms were starting to ache. Leaning yourself against the shovel, you watched as Dean powered on through, digging a few more shovels of dirt. Neither of you realized what had been going on with Sam, or really, the plot Gary had been trying to get the nerve up to do. This was his perfect opportunity. Alone with no witnesses, Gary gathered all the strength that he had to point that shotgun directly at the Winchester’s backside. All he had to do was shoot the man, that wasn’t so hard. He nervously swallowed and forced his finger on the trigger, deciding it was now or never.

“Hey, man, I’m really sorry about this.” Sam said, striking up a conversation that seemed out of the blue.

“Sorry about what?” Dean asked with not much concentration.

Before Gary could press his finger down on the trigger, Maggie Briggs was here to screw up his little plan when she realized someone was messing with her resting spot. You quickly turned your head to look behind you when you heard a crashing sound. A sense of panic washed over you when you saw Sam had gone flying back and landed himself into the wall. While he’d been acting like a dick all night, he was still your best friend. You dropped your shovel to the ground as you followed behind Dean when he rushed over to his little brother’s side to see if he was all right. The both of you managed to get his large frame up from the ground. He seemed a bit wobbly as he tried to get himself to stand properly, and while he looked fine, his brain seemed to have hit a little too hard from his reaction at what happened.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Sam shouted with sheer panic in his voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. We still got to burn the body, you idiot.” Dean said, stopping his little brother before he could run off like a chicken. He grabbed the man roughly by the shoulder and pushed him forward. “Come on.”

You could feel the slightest snicker about to come out from your mouth at the karma that Sam had gotten after the stunts he’d been pulling. But revenge was a two way street. Suddenly you could feel yourself being thrown back by an invisible force, landing yourself in the direct position Sam had been in not too long ago. But before Dean could help you, the man was thrown across the room himself, leaving the younger Winchester to try and save the day before it was too late. You pushed away the random objects that cushioned your fall as you tried your hardest to get yourself to your feet in time before something could happen. All though another obstacle stood in your way when you noticed Maggie staring at you straight in the eye, and from the look on her face, she wasn’t here to greet you with open arms. 

You looked to see that the gun was lying on ground not too far from where Sam had dropped it. If you jumped for it at the right time, you could grab it to give the three of you enough time to burn her bones. Glancing back at the ghost, you narrowed your eyes on her as you moved your foot forward, knowing her next move was going to be at trying to attack you. When she started moving forward, you made your move, launching yourself at the ground while your arms outstretched in front of you to grab the gun.

You snatched your hands firmly around the gun and rolled to your back, getting ready to aim at the spirit, but there was no use. You watched as Maggie Briggs soon turned into nothing more than a flame of smoke before she disappeared from your sight. But her body was still untouched. You looked over to see that Dean was getting himself up from his spot on the floor. If he didn’t do it…you looked over to the other side of the basement to see Sam was standing over the grave with the canister of salt and lighter fluid in his hands, with a fire going behind him. He managed to save your skin, that’s what hunting partners did. But the smile on his face, it was like this was the best thing he’d ever done.

“Dude…that was sweet!”

\+ + +

You tried telling yourself that what was happening was just all in your head. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting. Or maybe it was because you’ve been seeing a lot of things, and your own thoughts were turning on you, making you twist a friendly gesture from Sam into something that it wasn’t. You and the boys headed back to the motel for a few hours when you complained about being tired. Perhaps a nap might help boost your mood, and while it did, there was something more important that always changed your mood. And that was food. You weren’t going to fuss when Dean suggested on hitting bar he seen not too far from the motel to have a few drinks and dinner from the time you finally got around to waking up. Perhaps if you got something in your stomach and had a beer you might feel a bit better.

So here you sat in the middle of the bar that Dean picked out and adjusted yourself on the stool that was surprisingly comfortable than most you find in this kind of joint. You sat in the middle of the boys as you quietly nursed your drink of choice, enjoying the conversation between the three of you that seemed typical, nothing out of the ordinary. You didn’t say much to either one of them, you just sat there, enjoying their company as you watched the crowd of people was beginning to grow much larger as the night lingered on. While you took another sip of your drink, the waitress that had been helping you since you gotten here had came back with the round of shots that Dean had ordered. You gave her a smile and mumbled a thank you when she set the small glass right next to you before giving one to each of the boys.

“Do me a favor, sweetheart, could you bring me a cheeseburger with extra bacon?” Dean asked the woman. You raised your brow from the same meal that he was having for the second time in a row. The man seemed to have noticed your playful judgemental stare, so he decided to change it up a tab bit. “And fry an egg on top of it, would you?”

“Ooh, that—that sounds good. Ditto.” Sam said, deciding to spice things up from the usual salads and healthy foods for something a bit more fattening. You furrowed your brow from what he was doing, finding his unusual behavior was starting to slowly come creeping back. But you kept your observation to yourself as you looked over at the waitress, telling her your order as you gave her another smile when she cleared off the empty glasses from the table and headed back into the kitchen to place your food order in.

You had been biting your tongue for the past twenty four hours, but there was something going on with Sam. You placed your drink down to the table and placed your elbows down to give you a little bit of leverage as you leaned forward, getting closer to the man. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sam?” You asked him straight out, not beating around the bush. You looked at him dead in the eye with a serious expression. Sam stared at you with a panicked look for a split second, almost as if you were catching on to what was going on, but it was Dean’s quiet chuckle that sent the mood spiraling downwards, making it seem like you were joking. But you weren’t. “Bacon cheeseburgers now?”

“I don’t know. I eat them, don’t I?” Sam returned your question with another one. You narrowed your eyes on him from his attempt at changing the subject when he reached for the shot glass, deciding right now would be a perfect time for a toast. “Anyways, we are celebrating.”

“Yeah, I guess. Another one bites the dust.“ Dean said, raising his shot glass to say some toast that he thought of from the top of his head. You didn’t partake in this brotherly bonding moment, you sat there instead, eyeing Sam, watching his every move. "Nice work today, guys.”

“You too. I had a, uh, really awesome day, man. Seriously.” Sam admitted to the both of you. You took a moment to take your attention away from the man when you lifted up your own shot glass to down the drink with one sip, just slightly wincing at how the whiskey burned, but after drinking it for a handful of years, it was nothing. Sam, on the other hand, took it down like he was swallowing nails. He winced and tried his hardest to keep it down, but after a few seconds of struggling and finally swallowing it, he gave a thumbs up to signal a job well done. “Whoo! Sweet.”

“A really awesome day?” Dean found himself backtracking to what his little brother had said, finding the words even a bit of character for the man. Sam shrugged it off, wondering what was so weird at what he mentioned. “It was a random, d-list ghost hunt. That’s…That’s awesome to you?”

Sam looked at the man with a funny expression, “I can’t be in a good mood?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s…” Dean mumbled as he trailed off for a moment, trying to get used to this new side of Sam that he really never seen before. You kept yourself quiet as a smirk began to spread across your lips that you hid behind the drink you were about to take, thinking the man was going to finally see that the younger Winchester was hiding something. “No, actually. It’s not really your style, Sam.“ 

“Well, then, it’s a new me. I mean, come on. Why shouldn’t I be happy? I’ve got a gun, I’m getting drunk, and I look like this.” Sam said, showing off a bit of vanity when he pointed to his face, which wasn’t something he did. You looked at him with a strange look at how the man continued on and let out a tiresome sigh from what he talked about next. “I don’t know. You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you?”

You could feel yourself rolling your eyes from what he mentioned, as if this problem was just solely happening to him. “Uh, yeah, Sam, we feel like that a lot.”

“No matter how much you fight it, you can’t stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan. So, I don’t know. I guess it, uh, it’s just nice to do a little ass-kicking for a change, that’s all.” Sam went on talking as he ended on a bit of a good note. You found yourself staring at the man with a bit of a perplexed expression, not sure where all of this was coming from. The man seemed to have noticed you and Dean were starting to grow suspicious of the way he was talking, so he tried to back of this, making up some excuse to explain this out of character behavior. “Uh, you know what? I—I’m drunk. Sorry. Just—Just forget it.”

“No, no. It’s all right. I’ll drink to that.” Dean said, reaching for another one of the full shot glasses as he brought it up to the air to give another toast. You watched as the brothers clinked and took another shot, the oldest Winchester decided not to question the man’s behavior, as he was enjoying this new side of his brother. “Wow, you know, is it just me, or are the three of us actually drinking together?”

“We don’t do it that often, huh?” Sam asked. Dean’s response was a scoff as he raised his beer to his lips to take another drink. Most of the time the younger Winchester wasn’t into the bar scene, he preferred to keep his nose in a book or his laptop for research. Over the past year or so the boys have been walking on a thin lie with each other. Tonight it seemed like things were turning out a bit differently. And while you wanted to embrace this new side of Sam, you still thought there was something off about him. “Well we should. You’re a good guy, Dean.”

Dean looked at his little brother with disbelief at what he just heard, “Man, you are drunk.”

The waitress came back not a moment later with the food that you ordered. Your mouth began to water at the sight of your food, seeming to forget about the conversation for a moment as you thanked the waitress yet again for her service before you got ready to dig in. But before you could make a dent, Sam stopped you, feeling the need to press for his compliment a bit more for the man to understand where he was coming from.

“No, but I mean it. You really are a good guy.” Sam said, hoping his words would take effect. You stopped yourself for a moment as you glanced up to the man from what he said that seemed so random. It wasn’t that Sam hated his brother. The both of them loved one another, but why would he be saying this right now? But Sam didn’t seem to linger on the heartfelt confession when he brought the hamburger to his lips and took a bite of the food. “Mmm! The bread alone!”

You tried your hardest to believe for a little while longer that the Sam sitting next to you was really the man you’ve known for pretty much your entire life. You’ve been traveling with the brothers for almost five years now, after seeing them every single day, you should be able to tell if one of them was acting out of character. So, you decided to give him a few tests. The utensils he was using had been slipped out with sterling silver, and when you distracted the boys for a split second, you slipped a bit of holy water into his drink, just enough to get a reaction if he somehow gotten himself possessed. He passed all of them with flying colors. His skin didn’t burn when he reached to touch the knife to cut his burger in half, and he didn’t choke on his beer after finishing it up. The man wasn’t a shapeshifter or a demon. But you still weren’t convinced the man was himself.

You finished up your dinner faster than the boys as they slowly savored the last of their burgers. Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, you made your way through the crowd, attending to your business. You began wondering if this wasn’t really Sam that was the problem. What if it was really you? Perhaps your mind was growing worse from what the wraith had done to you. It hadn’t been that long since you wrapped up the case. You wondered if she somehow sped up the process of what Lucifer had done to you, also. Maybe your mind was somehow making up things to make you distance yourself from the man. The theory sounded good in your head when you were fixing your hair, but the logical side of you kicked in, remembering how much the Devil wanted you and Sam together. After all, he was his true vessel. How would he benefit in making you grow a hatred to the younger Winchester? You shook your head from the complicated thought you were putting into this situation. It was only giving you a headache.

Letting out a faint sigh, you headed out from the bathroom, deciding not to focus too long on this situation that was only leading you with more questions than answer. The bathrooms were located in a narrow hallway that lead to the more spacious opening of the bar. You stepped out into the hallway, expecting to be greeted by nobody, instead, you were bombarded by a familiar face that had you accidentally stumbling back to a near corner. Sam gave you a smile, this time, it was just a friendly gesture when he took a step forward. You noticed that nobody seemed to be around, leaving the both of you alone for this moment. Sam could fool everyone all he wanted, but you weren’t going to fall for whatever was going on with him.

“Y/N, there you are.” Sam said with a sigh of relief, almost acting like you had run off. You looked at him with a confused expression as you tried passing him, wondering if he was just here to finish some business. But when you moved, he did the same. He outstretched one of his arms, boxing you in, and when you turned your look into more of a glare, the man let out a nervous chuckle from the way you were staring at him. “Where you going so fast?”

“Back to the table.” You told him. “Why?”

“I…I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting. I know I’ve been coming off a bit strong. But you see, there’s a reason behind it.” Sam said, trying his attempt at apologizing to you from all the remarks he made and the states that made you feel uncomfortable. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him with a cold glare, not backing down from your personal feelings against him. The man looked at you with a bit of a smile starting to creep at the ends of his lips. “You know, you’re cute when you get all pouty and mean like that. Why don’t the two of us get out of here? Screw Dean. You and I can—”

Gary, the teenager walking around in Sam’s skin, thought he could take on someone that was your size, at least half in height and weight. He would have been intimidated any other day of the week to be cornering a stranger in the hallway, but the man was new and improved. He was taller, and a lot stronger than most guys. All he had to do was escort you back to Trevor’s house, and the other part of the plan would go smooth. Girls always liked it when you called them out on their behavior and flirt a little bit with them. At least, that’s what Gary saw in the movies and shows he watched. But today it seemed that someone like you was about to prove his theory very wrong. 

"Ow! Ow!” Gary mumbled with pain when you grabbed ahold of the man’s arms and roughly threw him against the wall, pinning one of his arms to his back as you kept an iron grip on the other. The old Sam that you had known could have easily blocked the move you made, but this man had fallen for the bait, and as the consequence, he was pressed face first against the wall. You tightened your grip around him when you heard the younger man’s remark that was slightly muffled. “Holy crap. You’re a one serious badass chick. You’re like…Laura Croff. Only hotter.”

You scoffed at what he said as you stepped away from the man, giving him a look of disbelief from what you were hearing. This was the final straw, you knew something was terribly wrong. “Who the hell are you?” 

“Who else do you think I am?” The man thought it would have been a good idea to answer your question with another one. You narrowed your eyes on him as your patience began to wear down to a thin line from the lying he kept up. “I’m Sam—”

Before the stranger could finish his sentence, you struck him silent when you threw up your arm to slap him right across the cheek with the back of your hand, the noise of skin slapping could be heard through the bar. A few lingering eyes curiously peeked out to see what the commotion was all about, and before you could throw a punch at the man for how he had been disrespecting you, someone roughly grabbed ahold of your wrist, yanking you back from the younger Winchester. 

“Hey, hey, hey! What the hell is going on here?” It was Dean who was saving his little brother from getting his ass kicked by you. You exhaled a deep breath as you looked straight at the man with a deathly glare, wanting to make it clear that you weren’t done with him. But your focus was shifted from one brother to another when Dean began dragging you out of the small hallway and back to the table that the three of you were previously sitting at. He allowed Sam to slip away from this one as you watched the younger man head to the bar, deciding he needed something cold to help with the red handprint that was slowly starting to go down. You managed to get your arm free as Dean sat you down on the barstool at the table. He didn’t even give you a second to try and explain yourself, when you opened your mouth, the man pointed a finger at you. “What’s going on with you, Y/N? You just don’t go around smacking people—”

“Will you listen to me? That guy isn’t Sam.” You told him without letting him finish his thought. The man looked at you with a shake of the head as he took the chance to roll his eyes. “Oh my God. You don’t believe me, do you? That’s so typical of you!”

“Okay, okay.” Dean tried his hardest to keep you quiet as he shushed you. A few people lingering around the bar turned their heads to see what was going on again. He put his hands on your shoulders and tried to give you a word of advice. “Yeah, I guess Sam’s been a little out of himself. But you gotta calm down—”

“Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down, Dean.” You hissed at the man, knowing that was only the equivalent to throwing oil into the fire. You shrugged off his touch as you got up from your seat to tell him exactly what has been going on. “It’s not him. I mean, think about it. Sam’s wouldn’t just disappear for hours without at least calling one of us. And then he crashed Baby? Also, if he did find a lead, he would’ve told me. Not to mention, the way he’s been acting around me. And the creepy comments…”

“Comments? What comments?” The oldest Winchester seemed to have changed his tone at the mention of his little brother overstepping his boundaries. He knew the man like the back of his hand, Sam hadn’t ever shown behavior that wasn’t any different from being your best friend. Then again, he started thinking back to the examples you had given him. Dean thought his little brother was just acting like a bit of a goofball. But that wasn’t like Sam. He could feel his jaw beginning to tense up from what was going on. “Son a bitch. I think you might be onto something.”

“And this is why I’m the smart one.” You muttered underneath your breath.

But if that wasn’t enough for the both of you convinced that the man you’ve been spending all of your time with for the past handful of hours, you looked up at the exit of the bar to see yet another example. Sam found himself being escorted out by a woman that looked to be a little bit older than him. You found your mouth parting open slightly as he let her escape to the parking lot, and as if things had never happened between the two of you. Sam looked at his older brother and gave a thumbs up and announced what he was about to do. He was going home with that woman. You let him slip out without stopping yourself, allowing him to slip out of the bar without stopping him. Slowly, you tore your gaze away from the doors, and stared at the man sitting next to you. Dean didn’t need anymore evidence to know that his little brother wasn’t himself anymore. Something was wrong here…very wrong.

\+ + +

And they say good friends are hard to find. Sam, the real Sam, was finding out that saying the rough way. Gary’s supposed friends didn’t like the idea that the man wasn’t following to the plans that they wanted. Whatever they were. Sam had been at school where he discovered an ancient leather bound book that held some serious magic. Only to have found himself a short while later tied up in someone’s basement, still stuck in the scrawny body that was making it hard to squeeze out of the rope that was pinning his arms to his side. If he were back to his normal self, it wouldn’t have been much work to loosen the binds to get himself free. But he was walking in someone else’s shoes today. Sam let out a breath from the excruciating physical force he was using, but failing miserably. He gave himself a moment to catch his breath as he looked around the room, wondering if he was alone, but that dweeb that was supposed to be Gary’s friend, Trevor if Sam remembered correctly, headed on down the stairs with a very apprehensive Nora as she followed behind the man with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey!” Sam shouted at the both of them with frustration. “What the hell is going on?!”

“You can scream all you want. No one can hear you! My parents are out of town!” Trevor shouted back at the man, pointing his phone to the ceiling, deciding to mock Sam’s anger. He laughed at how the kid struggled, but Sam made a mental note, if he gotten out of this alive, he was gonna kick that smug smirk off that stupid face of his. Trevor returned to his call, who happened to be the real Gary, and from the sound of his voice, this was no joking matter. “Gary. Where are you?”

“Uh, I can’t really tell you right now, but, man,” Gary’s voice could be faintly heard from the other lone. It was a bit weird for Sam to hear his own voice coming from someone else, but it seemed this Gary was having the time of his life. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Well, where’s Dean?” Trevor impatiently asked the man.

“Uh, the Cloverleaf on Route Six with Y/N.” Gary answered, with the slightest bit of apprihension in his voice when he gave the information to his friend. “Why?”

Trevor wasn’t happy at what he was hearing, “You mean you haven’t killed him yet?”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. What do you mean?” Sam leaned slightly out of his seat as he tried to listen more in on the conversation, not liking the sounds of danger being brought to his brother without a chance of telling him. Or at least, stopping it. “Kill Dean?”

“I’m…building up to it.” Gary replied ever so slowly.

“Look, Gary, we got problems here. For one…I’m looking at your body right now—with this other dude in it.” Trevor said as he looked over at his friend, at least, the exterior of it. “Yeah, he’s been in your house. He’s hanging out with your parents.

“Okay, just…calm down. Whatever he says, no one’s gonna believe him, right? I mean, we’re still good.” Gary tried to reassure his friends that everything was going to be all right. But his mind was starting to focus on a few other things when he heard the sounds of heels treading closer to the bedroom.

“Just hurry up and kill the jerk and grab the bitch, would you?” Trevor asked his friend with what little patience he had remaining. Gary responded that he would keep his promise, but he needed a bit more time. Trevor shut his phone and rolled his eyes, the confidence was starting to dwindle as he shoved the object back into his pocket for safekeeping. “I don’t think he’s gonna do it.”

“Just relax.” Nora said. “This is Gary we’re talking about.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Sam questioned the two teeenagers, demanding to know what all of them were up to. “How do you know who Dean is?”

“Everybody knows who Dean is. He’s ‘Hell’s Most Wanted.’” Trevor explained to the man. Sam’s face dropped from what he was hearing, not because his brother was in danger, but because of what these kids have been doing. And the consequences of what would happen if they didn’t deliver on the promise. “There’s a big bounty on his head, better dead than alive. But this Y/N chick…that’s where the real money’s at. She’s gotta be alive and breathing when we hand her over.”

“Oh, no. No. Have you idiots been talking to demons?” Sam asked the two of them. Trevor rolled his eyes at the insult, to him, the guy was a genius for what he was doing. All of his dreams were going to come true. It was a fool proof plan, in the mind of somebody with the only problems they were facing was about getting into a good college. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.”

“Well, we know that there’s a price on their heads, and we’re the ones that are gonna collect it.” Trevor said, with all the confidence in his tone to match that cocky smirk on his lips.

Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously on the teenager, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“About a month ago, we were down here…” Nora decided to speak up to give the man more to the story, and while Trevor tried stopping her, she quickly threw him a dirty look to silence him so she could finish. “What? We’re not allowed to talk about them? We were down here, goofing around with that book.”

“Um, I wouldn’t exactly call praying to our dark overlord ‘goofing around.’” Trevor tried to correct his friend, Nora responded by rolling her eyes.

“Don’t be a loser, Trev.” She told him. Sam agreed with the girl in a sarcastic voice, making the kid look at him with an annoyed glare. Nora walked over to the book and opened it up to pull out a few sheets of paper that were folded up together. “Anyway, all of a sudden, the lights flickered and Gary went into this weird trance. He closed his eyes, picked up a pencil, and drew these.”

Nora walked over to Sam as she unfolded the papers and separated them. showing them to the man. Sam didn’t need to look at the sketches for very long to see they were, in immaculate detail, you and Dean staring back at him. “And you know what’s really weird? Gary can’t draw.” Trevor said, adding that little detail that wasn’t making the younger Winchester feel anymore better about what was spiraling downwards more than he could imagine.

“He said he heard a voice in his head. The demons were putting out a bounty on them.” Nora said as she explained more of this situation. Sam raised his brow, not liking the sounds of that. “Yeah, to like, every witch or Satanist across the whole country. But Gary—Gary’s the who spotted you.”

“And the ‘Freaky Friday’ crap?” Sam wondered.

“Another spell from the book. Gary’s idea—go in Trojan horse-style. He’s really smart.” Nora said, a smile, the kind when somebody talked about their crush, spread across her lips as a dreamy look settled in her face. But she was ripped away from the thought of her friend when Trevor spoke up, ruining the little fantasy Nora had going for a while.

“That is, if he has the beanbags to go through with it.” Trevor mumbled underneath his breath.

“Listen to me. You are making a terrible mistake. We’re talking about a demon deal—killing somebody. This isn’t a game. You’re crossing a line you won’t come back from.” Sam said, trying his hardest to get these kids to change their minds before it was too late. “Believe me.”

Nora seemed to have taken the man’s words into consideration at the look of apprehension that settled into her face. She turned around in her spot to look at Trevor, who hadn’t fallen for what he thought was just some scare tactic to make him back out. “What?” He asked the girl. Nora started to slowly pace around in her spot on the floor as she clutched the back of her head. “Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this jerk.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Nora said, not sure who she should trust anymore. “I-I mean, what if he has a point?”

“I don’t believe this. First Gary, now you.” Trevor said. He shook his head at how all of his friends seemed to have suddenly turned into cowards. The kid fell silent for a moment as he thought to himself about what he could do. But then the idea struck on his face the moment that cocky smirk began to stretch again slowly on his lips. “You know what? Fine. You want something done right.”

“What, you’re gonna—you’re gonna go kill Dean yourself, tough guy?” Nora asked her friend as a quiet chuckle of disbelief started to build in her throat to try and knock Trevor down a few pegs.

“Don’t have to.” Trevor said. He walked over to where the leather bound book was and grabbed it. He flipped to the exact page that he wanted, to the one that started all of this mess. Nora’s eyes grew wide when she saw that he was pointing to the demon summoning spell. She tried to stop him, but the kid wasn’t in the mood to hear anyone’s helpful suggestions. “I’m calling up one of these bad boys, turning these punks over, and getting paid. Dolla, dolla bills. Y’all!”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” Nora said, trying again to make Trevor change his mind.

“It’s not.” Sam said, agreeing with the girl. “It’s a very, very bad idea.”

Trevor looked at the man with an annoyed glare, “No one asked you.”

The kid put his attention back to the book, ignoring the looks that were being thrown in his direction, and the countless warnings that were going to get him killed. But Trevor didn’t care about the consequences. The greedy heart wants what it wants.

\+ + +

You peeked out the motel window when you saw a shadow come across the window just a little after ten, hours since Sam had disappeared. When you noticed the familiar face come into your sight, you quickly stepped away from the window before he could spot you. You had precious seconds to make this look believable as you slipped yourself into the bed, pulling the sheets over your body and pressing the pillows closer around your body. When you heard the key being shoved into the lock, your entire body went still, your hands cautiously slipped underneath the pillow to feel for the loaded gun as the door handle slowly twisted before the door swung open. It was quiet throughout the motel room, you could only hear your steady heartbeat, and the very loud footsteps coming from the stranger. Sam might be giant, but the man knew the art of being quiet as a mouse, the stranger wandered through the room with a heavy stomp that followed.

The first thing the stranger noticed was the outline of a body lying in the bed closest to the wall. From the pillows that you shaped around your body, you had made it look like Dean was lying in bed, setting a bait the stranger wanted to see. You stared at the wall, hearing his footsteps approaching closer to the bed, but stopping for a moment. It seemed the stranger didn’t come fully prepared, because when he saw the pistol just lying on top of the duffel bag. Sam bent down to pick it up, and a second later, you could hear the safety go off. The stranger stood in the middle of the darkness with an empty gun pointed at you, thinking he was about to kill Dean, but he was about to be proved very wrong, as a shadowed figure quietly popped out from nowhere. The stranger seemed to have noticed he wasn’t alone in the room, and when he shifted the gun to the shadow, he was about to regret making that decision.

Gary could feel a grip around the gun, and before he could pull the trigger, he was being yanked forward. Dean didn’t hesitate when he threw a punch at the man, sending him into a daze from the blow he wasn’t expecting. The oldest Winchester grabbed his brother by the collar of his jacket and roughly shook him slightly. Gary swallowed when he looked straight in the eye of the very pissed off face of Dean Winchester, his only response was to let out a noise from the pain he wasn’t expecting to hear. But the man wasn’t in the sympathetic mood.

“You’re not Sam.” Dean hissed the statement at the kid. “Who the hell are you?”

\+ + +

“You have thirty eight new messages.”

The female voice operator notified you of the full inbox of your voicemail as you pressed down on the pound key on the motel phone to listen to a few them. You stood next to Dean with your eyes focused on the man that looked like Sam Winchester, but beneath the skin, was a stranger that had tried to kill Dean just a few minutes ago. “Uh, this is gonna sound crazy—really crazy—but I think, uh, I think I’m in the wrong body.” The voice you heard on the message was young, probably no younger than a teenager, but from the nervous laughter that came after what he said, you knew for a fact who it was. “Y/N, the guy right next to you is not me!” Was another warning as you let the next voicemail “Y/N, check your friggin’ voicemail for once. Damn it.” 

You put the phone back onto the receiver, not needing to listen to another voicemail to realize the man sitting in front of you, now tied to a chair so he couldn’t pull a stupid stunt, wasn’t Sam Winchester. Ever since last night you gotten the feeling that something was off about him. While you blamed it on your mind that was slowly starting to turn against you, a sensation of relief washed over you when you realized something was wrong here. You looked over at Dean to see the man was convinced himself now that his brother was now just a mere stranger with the same face. Both of you slowly looked over at the man when he woke up after you knocked him unconscious. He fidgeted around in his seat, wondering what was going on, until Sam’s facial expression turned into fear as he turned his head to your direction, knowing well enough he was caught red handed. 

“All right, pal.” Dean spoke with a threatening tone as he took a step forward to the man, deciding to go straight for the violence to get some answers out of him. “Either you start taking or we start waterboarding.”

“Oh, my God. Please, don’t hurt me. Please!” It wasn’t a second later before the person was begging for their lives, catching you off guard from how easy this was. You felt a little guilty even from how they were reacting, Dean looked over his shoulder, seeming taken off guard himself from what was happening. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” 

“Hey,” Dean consoled the person as he slapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder, giving it a rough squeeze. “Pull it together, champ.”

“I don’t want to die.” The stranger mumbled as she shook his head. You could see the clear distress in the younger Winchester’s face as he pleaded one more time to let him get out of this alive. “I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t. If you answer me honestly.” You said, giving the stranger a little bit of reassurance as you crossed your arms over your chest to show that you weren’t afraid to get physical with him again. “Where’s Sam?”

“In my—my friend’s basement.” He said, managing not to stutter all of his answer out to you. “His parents are out of town.”

“Parents?” You repeated after the person, taken off guard for a moment. Furrow your brow in slight confusion, look at the stranger, wanting to know more about them. “How old are you.”

“Seventeen.”

“…Seventeen?” 

The person trapped in Sam’s body was no more a teenager, somebody who had no clue of the consequences they were about to get himself into. Before you could ask him his name to get more of an in depth understanding of who you had been with for the past day and a half, it seemed that an unexpected guest decided to stop by, and they wanted to make a big entrance. You didn’t realize what was going on until you saw Dean go flying across the room and landing into the dresser mirror, all before landing on the carpeted grounds to the cushioned by broken glass. You called out his name in a panicked tone, but you looked in front of you to see the culprit was a teenage girl, who looked to be no older than seventeen. You gave her a bit of a funny look, wondering for a split second of who she was, and how did she manage to get in here. But all was explained when her eyes flickered black.

Before you could do anything, all it took was one little swing of her arm for you to go flying back to the other side of the room, landing against the wall. The demon didn’t seem to care about the mess that she had made while she stepped over your body that was lying on the ground, trying to brush off the situation that had unfolded to get to who she wanted, and that was Sam. Well, the body. The kid that had been walking in the Winchester’s skin recognized her face, as you heard a name being spoken, but the demon was quick to correct him as she walked forward to him as she showed him her inky black eyes.

“Boy, you earned your dessert tonight, kiddo. Tell me—what is it that you want?” The demon asked the kid, who you had learned was Gary. She worked on the rope that you had tied him up with just a little while ago to set him free. The kid was a bit hesitant to take her offer, but when she promised him anything, his eyes lit up from the possibilities. “Lay it on me.”

“I want to be a witch. For real.” Gary said. He let the rope drop to the floor and stood up, deciding he wanted to make a deal with the demon. Out of anything he could ask for, the kid went straight for something that could have been easily done if he kept practicing with black magic. “And really powerful.”

“Mmm. Good choice. I get it. No Daddy, no M.I.T. No plan. You get to be big and strong, and no one can tell you what to do anymore.” Nora said, only adding fuel to the fire to make the kid say yes. She turned around on her heels and began walking around the room, turning her back to Gary for a moment. Her eyes wandered down to the floor to see that Dean was still unconscious from the blow to the head as you leaned against the wall. The demon’s lips stretched into a smirk at the situation which was working to her liking. She turned around just in time to dodge the dirty look you were about to give her and focused her attention back on Gary. “There’s just one small formality first. You got to meet the boss.”

Gary looked at the demon with a bit of a confused expression, “The boss?”

“You know—your Satanic majesty, or whatever the kids are calling it these days.” Nora said, shrugging her shoulders as she tried to get to the teenager’s level of thinking.

“The Devil?” Gary presumed, the demon nodded her head. The kid found the conversation turning into a direction that he wasn’t comfortable with. It seemed that he crossed the line at switching bodies with someone he didn’t know, he didn’t want to take it one step further and meet the figure that he had been praying to for all those months. He tried backing out of the situation before it could get any worse. “Uh…no. Okay. No. It’s okay. I…don’t really want to bother him.”

“Oh, but he’s gonna want to meet you.” Nora told the kid, only it wasn’t all that true. The demon had tricked him and his friends into the perfect plan. Somehow all of this was about getting what Lucifer wanted, and that was Sam’s body, that was it. You had to admit, it was a pretty smart move, but it seemed Gary was suddenly hesitant to go any further. “Relax. It’ll be easy. He’s just gonna ask you one little question, and all you got to do is say ‘yes.’ And then…you get your reward.”

Before Gary could open his mouth and agree with the plan, the demon had a feeling someone was trying to ruin her deal, and when she turned around, her instincts were right when she saw Dean was back on his feet and the knife that could kill her went straight into her direction. Nora managed to grab ahold of the man’s arm and pin him down with enough strength to throw him on the floor again, making the knife fly out of his hands, and going to a direction on the floor that would be impossible to reach. Dean suffered the consequences when the demon began to take her aggression out on him, kicking him repeatedly in the stomach, enjoying the grunts and muffled noises he kept to keep the pain from showing.

You could feel your nails digging into your skin from what was happening as you had little to no movement from the way the demon kept you pinned against the wall. But it seemed you still had one advantage that Dean had thought of all along. He looked at you directly in the eye, and while he took another swift kick to the stomach, the man planted an idea into your head to help you save the day.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus.” You began muttering the familiar words of Latin underneath your breath, hoping the demon wouldn’t have much power as you opened your mouth once more to continue on while she reached up her leg to kick Dean one more time. But it seemed by the fifth word, she could feel the effects, and the demon’s black eyes were on you.

“What was that?” Nora turned around to focus her frustration on someone else. And that was you. You weren’t afraid of a girl that weighed no more than a hundred pounds soaking wet as she made her way towards you. To make her even more angrier, you told her to pick on someone that was more of her species. “Were you trying to exorcise me?! You little bitch! I’ll show you.”

The demon showed her strength when she bent down to grab ahold of you back the neck and pulling you to your feet, dragging your body up against the wall. You tried your hardest to fight her off, but it was growing impossible from the lack of oxygen you were getting to your lungs. “Spiritus, omnis satanica potestas.” But the exorcism continued on, you turned your head just enough to see that Gary must have been serious about witchcraft and demonology, as he was sighting off the rest of it like it was nothing. Nora let go of you to try and take down the kid herself, thinking it wouldn’t take too much effort, but she was very wrong.

“Omnis incursio infernalis adversii.” You continued on with the chant, ignoring the dull pain in your throat from how hard the demon had choked you to try and keep quiet. The demon was caught in a crossroads when she stood in the middle of the room, stuck with nowhere to go, you and Gary worked together to finish the exorcism to save his friend with the final handful of Latin that you spoke. “Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire. Te rogamus.”

“Adios, bitch!” Dean said his parting ways to the demon as he gave her a smile, showing off his blood stained teeth that were because of her.

“Uh, it’s ‘audi nos.’” Gary corrected the man, thinking right now would have been the proper time to do that. Dean didn’t waste his time in giving the kid a dirty look from the behavior that wasn’t exactly the best time, and in a way, could picture his little brother doing the same thing to him.

Not a second later after the exchange of looks, you felt a gush of wind hit your face as the demon escaped from the girl’s body. You watched as the cloud of smoke circled through the air before disappearing into a vent, and returning back to the pits of hell where the demon belonged.

\+ + +

It wasn’t much longer into the night before all of you were reunited back again. You found the real Sam where Gary had told you, in his friend Trevor’s basement, with Trevor on the floor, dead after the demon had slit his throat. You covered up his body with a sheet after you cut Sam loose from his bonds, finding it a bit strange to see the man that was a complete opposite of Gary stuck in the man’s body. But that would soon change. You and Dean sat on the couch in the living room with Nora lying on the far edge with a blanket wrapped around her body, a little bit dazed after waking up, but from the look on her face, she could remember clearly of what she’d done during her time of being possessed.

Gary got to work by switching him and Sam back to their normal bodies. The both of them sat in the middle of the floor with all the materials that Gary needed for the reversal spell to work. He spoke a few words in Latin, sprinkled a few herbs into his bowl, and after a few minutes, the spell seemed to have worked when you saw a flash of bright white light, making you go blind for a second before the room went back to complete darkness except for the few burning candles on the alter. Sam pushed himself to his feet, wanting to see for himself that he was back in his own body. You watched as he headed for the mirror to inspect all the details that he had missed, and the view of the world at a different height was a big clue that everything was back to normal.

“So,” You pushed yourself to your feet and trailed over to the man. “Are we good?”

“Yeah. We’re good.” Sam said. You let out a sigh of relief as your lips stretched into a smile from all of the thing that had been going on over the past day and a half, were now over. “Oh man, it’s nice to be back.”

“Yeah. Awesome.” Gary mumbled underneath his breath, not seeming to share the same amount of enthusiasm as the other man. You turned your head slightly as Gary pushed himself up to his feet, a solemn look was settled on his face, acting disappointed of having to go back to his life. But the problems that he tried running from was nothing from the punishment he was about to face after the stunts that he had pulled with three hunters. Not to mention, you weren’t going to let this idea of practicing black magic and making deals with demon as the norm for him.

“So,” Dean put his focus forward to the teenager as he cleared his throat, “Gary.”

“Yeah. I know—my bad.” Gay said, shrugging his shoulders as he gave some mediocre apology for the things that he’d done and the lives that he put on the line. The kid didn’t even feel that bad at the fact one of his friends was downstairs in his own basement dead. Not to mention, the other sat traumatized on the couch after having done the killing when she was possessed.

“‘My bad’? Kid, ‘my bad’ ain’t gonna cut it. See, if you were of voting age…you’d be dead. Because we would kill you.” Dean told the teenager, giving him the blunt truth of messing not only with black magic, but the lives of three hunters. You nodded your head when Gary looked over at you, thinking the man was bluffing, but he was nothing but serious. The kid nervously swallowed as he turned his head back to Dean as he continued on talking. “So either you straighten up and fly right or we will kill you. Are we clear?”

Gary nodded his head, “Crystal.”

\+ + +

You, the boys, Gary and Nora all piled into the Impala to ride them back to Gary’s house. It started thundering and pouring rain outside as Dean pulled up the driveway of the house Gary pointed out to him. The Impala eased to a stop into the house with a perfectly manicured lawn and the porch light still on. You opened up the backseat door and stepped out, happy to get out of the car after being crammed in the back with the teenagers. Gary still wasn’t breaking out of his mood when he was mere a dozen feet from his house, where his parents and little sister waited for him, and the life that he didn’t want to continue on with. The kid thought having a roof over his head, a loving family and a shot at a normal life was dreadful and depressing. Sam, however, stopped the kid from wallowing in self pity as he stopped him, deciding to give Gary a bit of a reality check.

“Gary, look. Take it from someone who knows—chin up, man. Your life ain’t that bad.” Sam told him straight out, but Gary didn’t take the words to heart, as he pointed out the one of the many problems. Like his overbearing parents, for example. But Sam didn’t see a fault in that. “Yeah. So what? It’s your life. You don’t like their plan for you, tell them to cram it. Rebel a little bit. In a healthy, non-Satanic way, of course.” Gary listened to the man’s words of advice, but his attention lingered off for a moment, as his gaze was settled on Nora. “By the way, you know why Nora’s into witchcraft? She doesn’t like Satan, you moron. She likes you.”

“Really?” Gary asked, seeming a bit taken back from the observation. He seemed a bit happy as he looked back over at the girl, his lips stretching into a small smile. “You—You think?”

“Yeah. I know. I’m telling you, kid—I wish I had your life.” Sam admitted. You looked at the man with a bit of surprise, seeming to have found his confession a bit different from what you had remembered him saying about having a normal life just yesterday morning.

But it seemed to have done the trick for Gary as a smile began to spread across his lips, feeling a little bit better for the situation he was about to go back to. You lightly patted Gary on the back and told him to get out of here and stay out of trouble before giving him a smile. Being a teenager, you always think the consequences were never going to catch up with you. You hoped that Gary was going to learn a valuable lesson from all of this as he headed into the house with Nora before disappearing from your sight. Letting out a quiet sigh, you looked over at the younger Winchester, wanting to come back to what he said to Gary.

“That was a nice thing to say.” You said, thinking he was either on to something. But in reality the man was just trying to be nice for a sticky situation that he never wanted to deal with again.

“I totally lied. That kid’s life sucked ass.” Sam admitted not a second later. You let out a quiet laugh from his brutal honesty, just wondering how bad Gary Frankel’s life must have been. All of you got back into the Impala so you wouldn’t get anymore wet from the rain that was starting to come down even harder. Settling yourself comfortably into the seat, the younger Winchester continued on with the conversation, bringing everything back how comfortable he’d gotten with the hunting life. “All that apple-pie, family crap? It’s stressful. Trust me—we didn’t miss a damn thing.”

“Or you don’t know what you’re missing.” You mumbled underneath your breath, pulling on your soaked shirt so it wouldn’t stick to your skin. “A normal life isn’t that bad, Sammy. It’s just depends on who your parents are.”

You let the conversation die off on that point. All you wanted to do now was go back to the motel to take a shower and change your clothes, before slipping into bed. Dean shoved the key into the ignition and turned on the engine. A second later the radio kicked on, and funny enough, the same song from this morning turned on. You didn’t think much of it, but it seemed that Sam had a much different reaction than how Gary did.

“Hey, come on, man.” Sam complained. “Turn it down.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he leaned forward in his seat to decrease the volume like his brother had not so pleasantly asked. “Welcome back, Kotter.” The oldest Winchester muttered before turning his attention to pulling the Impala out of the driveway. You let out a quiet chuckle as you leaned back in your seat and positioned your arms above your head to rest. This might not be the nuclear family like in those of the houses you passed by in this neighborhood, but the boys were your own, and you wouldn’t ask for a better one.


	13. The Song Remains the Same.

Dean Winchester didn’t have much of a type, he worshiped all women that passed his sight; short, tall, skinny, curvy, ones with an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. Not to mention that spark, he enjoyed a woman with a bite in her personality, something that was frisky and showed him she was going to give him a night to remember. One of the things that he loved being on the open road was that there was always someone new to rock his world for a night. But of all the women he’d seen in his life, none of them compared to the one in front of him. Dean leaned back on the couch with his arms resting on each side of his head. What was better than a private showing in a snazzy joint like this? His teeth sank down into his bottom lip. The person standing up on the stage in front of him as the main attraction.

Your hips moved to the rhythm of one of the few favorite songs that you wouldn’t mind when Dean started playing, good old “Cherry Pie” by Warrant. You circled around in the middle of the stage, showing off the little outfit that was making Dean drool in delight. The only coherent thought that he had at the moment besides of how gorgeous you looked, was how he was going to rip it off your body when you got done putting on a little show for him. You wore high heels in the color red that matched perfectly with the lacy lingerie that didn’t leave much to his imagination. You could wear a trash bag, and in his eyes, you would still look sexy. You looked over your shoulder as you swung your hips back, giving him a better view of your ass. To make things just a bit better for him, you wore a pair of red horns to pull the ensemble all together. Inhaling a deep breath, Dean could feel a smile spreading across his lips, thinking he was the luckiest man to be alive at what stood in front of him. And it was all for him to have.

“Oh, I take it all back, baby.” Dean muttered underneath his breath as his lips stretched into a smirk. “I love the Devil.”

Your lips stretched into a devious smirk as you stepped off the stage, deciding to give him more of a personal showing. Dean leaned farther back in his seat when you swung one leg over his before you dropped yourself into his lap. The song continued on in the background as the dream he was having was moving to the better part that he always enjoyed. You placed your hands on his chest and hovered your lips over his, giving his desire for you to grow even more. When Dean eagerly tried to kiss you, he always denied when you let out a giggle that let out a puff of hot air that tickled his lips as you pushed him away. You tilted your head as you leaned in closer, just separating you and him just by a few centimeters. As you opened your mouth to speak, this was the moment you expressed how much you needed him. The voice that he heard when he shut his eyes wasn’t yours. It was one that he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“This is what you dream about?”

Dean’s eyes ripped open when he felt the weight on top of him suddenly disappear and the room grew silent. He noticed right away that you were gone and someone was standing in the middle of the stage. A woman with bright red hair was staring at him with a slightly amused smile. The man suddenly felt embarrassed at who he saw; Anna, the angel which he hadn’t seen since just last year, when the Devil was still locked away in the cage.

“I was just, uh, working on a case.” Dean tried to explain himself to the angel. He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor when he realized that he was in fact asleep after wrapping up a hunt that was a bit stressful on all of you. On the rare occasions that he was having a good dream, he was interrupted, it was disrupted by a familiar face. He let out a breath at how awkward of this was unfolding for him. Anna, however, was smiling at the man’s reaction that she wouldn’t have expected anything less of. “Why are you gate-crashing my head? Why don’t you just swing by the motel?”

“I can’t find you.” Anna explained to him for their unusual gathering. The angel walked to the edge of the stage to take a seat next to the man. Dean remembered why. He pressed a hand against his chest, mentioning Cas, who had engraved a bunch of words into his ribcage that made him invisible to all angels. Anna stiffened at the name of a fellow angel, as it seemed she didn’t have a warm memory of her brother. “Cas. Right. Now, there’s a friend you can count on.”

Dean looked at the angel with a bit of a funny expression from her reaction, “What?”

“He didn’t tell you? Where I’ve been. I mean, of course not. Why would he?” Anna seemed to be having a conversation with herself at the lack of information that Dean had received. She scoffed quietly underneath her breath as she shook her head. The man continued on to be confused as he asked her where she’d been all of this time. “Prison. Upstairs. All the torture, twice the self righteousness.”

“Why wouldn’t he have told us where you were?” Dean asked.

“‘Cause he’s the one who turned me in. And don’t look so shocked.” Anna said, not wanting to see the look on his face to hear the angel hovering on his shoulder over the past several months still had some of his behavior left in his system before rebelling. “He was always a good little soldier. Did anything under orders.”

“I didn’t know.” Dean admitted to her with the honest truth “Are you okay?”

“No. And I don’t have long. I broke out—barely. They’re looking for me. If they find me…it won’t be good.” Anna said. She looked directly Dean in the eye when he asked her if he could do anything to help her. “Meet me. 225 Industrial. And, please, just hurry.”

\+ + +

Dean inhaled a deep breath as his eyelids ripped wide open after the sensation of feeling like he was about to fall eased from him. He blinked and moved his gaze around the room, wondering for a moment of where he was, but the ceiling and the body pressed against his made Dean realize that he was back in the safety of the motel room. He could hear you shift around in bed when he tried his hardest to shift you off of him so he could sit up straight in bed. He stared off into the distance with a worried look on his face. You let out a yawn as you sat up yourself, mumbling the man’s name to see if everything was alright.

“You okay?” You asked him, presuming he might have had a nightmare that shook him out of the slumber. Sam wasn’t around as you looked around the room, he probably was out getting something to eat from the time on the clock and didn’t want to disturb the both of you. Dean didn’t answer your question. You reached up to squeeze his shoulder and looked at him with a concerned look. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No. It's…” Dean managed to answer you, but he trailed off for a moment, only making you wonder a bit more of what was making him look like he had seen a ghost of his past. “It’s Anna. She wants to meet with us.”

\+ + +

It should have taken no longer than twenty minutes for the Winchesters to find the abandoned building that Anna had told them about. She quietly walked down the hallway, the only light to guide her path was from the dimly lit posts hanging above her head. The angel waited to hear any sound of footsteps besides her own as she continued on the lookout for a familiar face. As she crossed a wall length window, Anna stopped for a moment when a gust of wind came rushing in, taking her off guard for a moment, waiting for someone to jump directly into her sight, only she watched as a few strays of newspaper rolled on through. Anna inhaled a quiet breath as she took a few cautious steps forward, wondering for a moment of her plan had failed, and they had found her. 

“Hello?” Anna called out to nobody, hoping for a response from the oldest Winchester. She was greeted with more silence that was making her grow more uneasy. “Who’s there?”

The answer came not a second later. Anna didn’t flinch when the lightbulbs above her broke one by one, sending sparks to fly around in the air, and making the room grow dark. For a moment she wondered if her siblings had found her. But when she heard a gravelly voice speak her name from behind, it was someone far worse. “Hello, Anna.” 

“Well…if I didn’t know any better,” The angel turned around in her spot to see it was Castiel himself. He stared at her with the type of expression that he didn’t come here as the enemy, but he didn’t look at his sister like she was an old friend. He was cautious, like she was a dangerous threat to him. “I’d say Y/N and the WInchesters don’t trust me.”

“They do. I don’t.” Castiel corrected her. “I wouldn’t let them come.”

“And why is that?” She asked him.

“If you’re out of prison, it’s because they let you.” Castiel said. He began walking around the hall, circling the angel, like he was her prey, waiting for any wrong move she might do in his presence. He was holding a speculation that simply was not true. “And they sent you here to do their dirty work.”

Anna followed his every move, “And what makes you so sure?”

“Because I’ve experienced…” The angel spoke ever so slowly, as if he was admitting a secret that he was ashamed of. “Heaven’s persuasion.”

“You mean when you gave me to them.” Anna said with a harsh tone.

“That was a mistake.” Castiel said. Anna stared at the angel in front of her to see if he was telling the truth. She could see the regret in his vessel’s eyes. But she was having a hard time forgiving him for what he’d done to her, as he was still treating her like the enemy. “Anna, whatever they sent you here to do—”

“They didn’t send me.” This time, Anna corrected him. “I escaped.”

“No one escapes.” Castiel said, not believing one word she just spoke.

“All these centuries, and you’re underestimating me now?” Anna smiled at the angel. She was his superior before she decided to fall, she told him what to do without question. Now it seemed her brother had grown a cold shoulder for his own kind. She could sense that he was hostile towards her, even though the both of them wanted the same thing in the very end.

“If you’re not one of them, then what do you want?” Castiel questioned her. Anna answered him with honesty, but he looked at her with suspicion as he repeated what she had said when he found a fault. “You want to help? Then what are you doing with that knife?”

Anna looked at her brother with a moment, trying to pretend that she was unarmed. Castiel wasn’t going to fall for it as he narrowed his eyes slightly. She reached out a hand to pull out the knife that she had kept hidden in her back pocket to show him. “I’m not allowed to defend myself?”

“Against whom? That blade doesn’t work against angels. It’s not like this one.” Castiel said. Anna looked down to see that her brother was holding one himself, a long silver blade, the only thing that could kill an angel. “Maybe you’re not working for Heaven. But there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Funny how time can change things. Anna swallowed as she stared at the blade for a few seconds more before confessing her true reason for being here. It was just a little over a year ago she was with the you and the Winchesters, a fallen angel who was on the run. Castiel was still a good little soldier who was trying to kill her. You and the boys did all you could to keep her safe from both sides so she could find her grace. But today, after escaping, she wasn’t here to thank you for all your selfless hard work. Not that she was grateful for everything that you did.

“Sam Winchester and Y/N Y/L/N have to die.” Anna told him the truth. She watched as the look in Castiel’s face shift slightly, yet it was enough to see her confession had added the fuel to his distrust to her. He tightened his grip on the blade at the mention of you and the youngest brother. All four of you had grown closer since she’d been gone, Anna could see that in his reaction, but she couldn’t let the world end because of you two. “I am sorry. But we have no choice. Sam is Lucifer’s vessel. And Y/N’s the reason why Lucifer walks on earth.”

“Sam’s not the only one.” Castiel said.

“What? That guy Nick? He’s burning away as we speak.” Anna said, knowing very well the angel was trying his hardest to find some loophole in her plan. While she might have been locked away all those months, she could still hear the whispers, she knew everything. “No. Sam is the vessel that matters. And Y/N is connected to Lucifer. If she dies, so does he. But she’s turning into a demon more quicker than you realize. You know what that means. If we can find a way to kill her, Lucifer won’t be able to walk on earth anymore. Lucifer can’t take take Sam, his whole plan short-circuits. No fight with Michael, no croatoan virus, the horsemen go back to their day jobs.”

"Even if you could kill Y/N, there’s little options that would be strong enough to work permanently.” Castiel said. The words that came out of his mouth were painful for him. The angel didn’t want to think about you being harmed for the sake of humanity. Castiel, despite everything the both of you had been through, would do anything in his power to keep you safe. “Anything you do to Sam or Y/N…Satan would just bring them back to life.”

“Not after I scatter their cells across the universe. They’ll never find them—not all of them.” Anna said, telling her brother of the plan that she had harvesting in her mind for the past few months.

Castiel listened to what his sister had to say. His old self, the brainwashed angel who was a good soldier that took any order that was given his way, would have followed the plan without question. But he couldn’t get himself to agree with such drastic measures. “We’ll find another way.”

“How’s that going? How’s the colt working out? Or the search for God? Is anything working?” She questioned him, passively talking down to him as if she was still his superior. Castiel stood with his back turned to her, giving her no indication of how his vessel was reacting in his facial features. But she didn’t need to see his face to realize the angel had grown a soft spot for a few humans that would be up to no good in the next few months. “If you want to stop the Devil this is how.”

“The answer is still no.” Castiel said, giving the angel four words she would have never expected to hear from him. “Y/N is my friend.”

“You’ve changed.” Anna stated without a hint of speculation.

“Maybe too late. But I have. Anna, we’ve been through so much together.” Castiel said, turning around to face his sister. He might have been right about what he had just said. Yet the bond with two other people outweighed the one with Anna in so many different ways. “But you come near Y/N Y/L/N or Sam Winchester, and I’ll kill you.”

Anna stared at her brother, knowing well enough that the angel was true to his threat. But she wasn’t afraid of him. A sigh of frustration left Castiel when the angel disappeared from his sight, and far off somewhere that would be near impossible to reach.

\+ + +

“That bitch!” Your first reaction wasn’t so kind after Cas had arrived back from the meeting with Anna, the angel which you had once done everything in your power to protect, wanted you and Sam dead. You crossed your arms over your chest and began to pace around the motel room, a hardening look spreading across your face as the angel continued on drawing something in chalk. You weren’t paying much attention, as your desire to see Anna again and show her what you thought of her plan. “Does that little ginger remember I put my ass on the line and got myself tortured? And

is how she repays us? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true.” Cas said, looking up from the table to reassure you.

If this was any other day, the angel’s innocent behavior of the human mind would have made a smile spread across your lips, but today it made you give him a dirty look before he returned to work. Dean seemed concerned himself at how Anna had went all rogue. She seemed like the kind of angel that would have turned out like Cas, but it seemed he was mistaken. "So she’s got all Glenn Close, huh? That’s awesome.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

“Who’s Glenn Close?” Cas asked, unsure of who the oldest Winchester was mentioning.

“No one.” Dean answered. “Just this psycho bitch who likes to boil rabbits.”

“So, the plan to kill me,” You shifted your anger into something more productive, thinking to yourself for a moment at Anna’s plan. Lucifer couldn’t have one without the other. If he didn’t have a body, the angel couldn’t fight his brother. You looked over at Sam, who had been quietly sitting on the motel bed, listening to everything that was going on around him. And before he could even ask it, you beat him to the punch, thinking Anna might have been onto something here. “Would it actually stop Satan?”

“No, Y/N,” Dean rolled his eyes at what you were saying. “Come on.”

“I think Anna might have a point here. You guys are important. But you’re just the bodies, waiting around for the big show to start. I’m the reason why Lucifer’s walking free…why the apocalypse is even happening in the first place.” You said, giving your suggestions on how this might work to leave a happy ending for the few. “Maybe if she does kill me, none of this would happen. Maybe you guys would have a shot a somewhat normal life.”

“That’s not true.” The oldest Winchester argued with you. “Azazel could find someone else.”

“Who? Do you happen to know any women who are just lining up to sell their soul for a child? And perhaps knows a man who’s a demon turned human to have sex and make a baby with? Hate to say it, but the Devil’s in the details. You need rejects to create a spawn of Satan. Nobody fits the criteria except for my parents.” You said, not giving anyone enough wiggle room to try and fight you on your point. You looked away from the man and to the angel from across the room. “Cas, what do you think? Does Anna have a point about me?”

The angel looked away from you for a moment when he felt someone staring at him. Cas glanced over to Dean, who was in pain at the thought of losing you for the greater good. His life wouldn’t be the same for the brothers. And while Sam had contemplated on asking the question, you beat him to the punch, feeling the most responsible here. “No.” Cas told you. “She’s a…’Glenn Close.’”

“Wait. I don’t get it. We’re looking for the chick that wants to gank Sam and Y/N?” Dean asked the angel as he walked forward to him. He thought it’d be best to hide in the shadows, Anna couldn’t find you with the markings in your rib cage. But if the four of you went after her, who knows what might happen. “Why poke the bear?”

“Anna will keep trying. She won’t give up until Sam and Y/N are dead.” Cas said. “So we kill her first.”

The angel’s new plan of action was tempting by taking Anna down first before she could harm you or the younger Winchester. But you found yourself lingering on the idea for a moment that she might have been onto something here. What if you could stop the apocalypse, give the boys a chance at a normal life? It meant that you couldn’t be born. Or maybe you could still be brought into this world. If your mother didn’t ask for that second deal. Maybe all of this would have never happened. You found yourself lingering on the possibilities as you quietly work on finishing the ritual. Cas poured in some oil into the bowl as he chanted something in Enochian if you guessed. Once the chanting stops, a burst of red flame shot up, sending you off guard for a sec, not expecting that to happen. As the fire dies down to nothing, you look over at Cas, who suddenly has become overwhelmed from what he’d done.

“Hey, hey. Take it easy.” You stepped forward to the angel when you noticed he backed away from the table. He shut his eyes for a moment as his breaching become heavier. You managed to steady him just enough for Cas to take ahold of the chair and give himself a moment to recover from what he’d just done. “Hey…you okay?”

Cas looked up from the table and to you, “I found her.”

“Where is she?” Dean impatiently asked.

“Not where. When.” Cas corrected the man. “It’s 1978.”

“1978?” Sam pushed himself up from the bed at what he heard, confused at why Anna would have brought herself all the way to that time period. “Y/N and I weren’t even born yet.”

“You three won’t be if she kills your parents.” Cas said. You could feel yourself tense at the idea of your parents, decades into the past, not knowing the danger that laid ahead for them. “Anna can’t get to you because of me. So she’s going after them.”

“Take is back now.” Dean said without hesitance.

“And deliver you to Anna? I should go alone.” Cas shook his head, denying the possibility of letting you and the boys go jumping through time again.

“They’re our parents, Cas.” You told him. “Sure, none of them did the right thing, but they can’t die because of us. We’re going.”

“It’s not that easy, Y/N.” Cas tried explaining to you with the best of his ability. You gave him a confused look, wondering what was holding him back. “Time travel was difficult even with the powers of heaven at my disposal.”

“Which got cut off.” Sam continued on, knowing where the problem was risen for the four of you.

“So, what,” Dean tried making sense of this situation by slipping in some pop culture to help explain things a bit better. “you’re like a Delorean without enough plutonium?

"I don’t understand that reference.” Cas said, you rolled your eyes in frustration from his reaction. “But I’m telling you, taking this trip, with passengers no less—it’ll weaken me.”

“Is there a chance I could help?” You asked out of the blue. Cas and the boys looked over at you, seeming a bit confused at how you could help time travel thirty years into the past. “Hello…half demon here? I’m linked to the Devil, right? Maybe there’s a way I could tap into him or something. Use his grace without the bastard knowing.”

“It could work, theoretically. But there would be consequences.” Cas said. You raised your brow, wondering what they could be. The angel was hesitant for a moment, almost as if he didn’t want you to do it, but you pressured him to tell you by the pleading look you gave him. “You would most likely make the process of turning yourself into a demon even further. It might make it harder for us to turn you back to normal. That is, if we ever find a way.”

“We won’t have to worry about me turning into a demon if my parents are dead. This is a risk worth taking. And besides, I might have an idea that could make things go back to normal to the way things should be. Maybe I could make myself human.” You told them. A hint of hope began to blossom in your chest from the possibility of changing things exactly how you dreamed about. If you could save the world and give yourself a normal life, too…all of this would be worth the risk. Cas looked at you with hesitance, knowing the things that he had said to you in private were just theories. “Please. We have to try. They’re our parents.”

Cas didn’t have much to disagree with when the boys talked amongst themselves without saying a word. He’d been around the three of you long enough to pick up on your habits. There was no changing your or the boys’ minds. Cas gathered the supplies you would need to face Anna. He placed two ceramic jars full of holy oil into a duffel bag, along with a knife that was the only tool that could be used to kill an angel. You let out a quiet sigh as you shrugged on your jacket, making sure you had everything needed for this trip. As Sam grabbed the duffel bag from the angel, your hands subconsciously adjusted the chain of the locket that was your mother’s all these years ago. 

“Y/N, in order for this to work, you have to concentrate much as you can. It’ll weaken you as well, but not enough as me. You should be fine soon after we arrive.” Cas explained to the three of you as he tried getting himself prepared for the strain he was about to put on his body. “Ready?”

 

You scoffed at his question that really couldn’t be answered with a yes or no. In all honesty, you were terrified for what might happen. You just hoped that you wouldn’t end up in some wrong time period, stuck there forever. Or if one of you got hurt. Inhaling a deep breath, you closed your eyes like you were instructed to do, and with the feeling of Cas pressing his fingers against your forehead, you felt yourself become weightless.

\+ + +

At first you didn’t realize where you were. Your vision had remained dark, almost as if you were stuck in some trance, but the feeling only lasted so long when you heard the sound of squealing tires and a horn. You quickly ripped your eyes open to see there was a car coming in your direction, but before you could be road kill, someone grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you out of danger. You had little time to figure out your new surroundings. All you knew was that you had landed in the middle of the road, and the boys were with you, trying their hardest not to get hit by drivers that clearly didn’t care about pedestrians. You tried your hardest to somehow cross without having another incident, but an old station wagon pumped their breaks just enough to avoid hitting you. As the driver honked their horn and yelled a few means words at them, you didn’t hesitate to flip them off and tell them to go screw themselves after being safely on the sidewalk.

“Did we make it?” Sam asked, a bit unsure if his surroundings were different from normal.

You looked around the busy streets to see there was shops all around you, some of them you had never seen before, and a few that caught your attention. A sense of nostalgia washed over you when you realized you were back in Lawrence Kansas, you were home. “Unless they’re bringing Pintos back into production, I’d say yes.” Dean said as he took a chance to examine the town.

Taking a step back so you were now standing on the pavement, you began looking around the place to see if you could find Cas. While you had seen people dressed in clothes that made you feel like you were sticking out like a sore thumb, you happen to glance down on the ground, and caught a glimpse of a tan jacket. Your eyes widened when you looked further to see that it was Cas, He was leaning against one of the cars, almost as if he was trying to gather up some strength to get himself to stand. You called out the angel’s name in a worried tone as you headed over to him, the boys following behind when you had found the person they’d been looking for. 

“Take it easy. Hey, take it easy.” You ordered at Cas. You placed your hands on his shoulders so he could sit up a bit more comfortably. You noticed that the angel looked fatigued from what he had put himself through, and the bloody nose that he had wasn’t a good sign, either. “How are you feeling, buddy?”

“I’m fine.” Cas reassured you. “I’m much better than expected.”

But you found a fault in his words when the angel leaned over slightly in his spot to cough up some blood before losing consciousness on the three of you. You reached out a hand when the boys steadied Cas just enough so he wouldn’t fall face first into the pavement. Letting your hand hover over his mouth, you could feel his breath tickle your skin, giving you reassurance that he wasn’t all the way dead. “He’s breathing…sort of.” You mumbled. You began thinking of what you could do. The boys couldn’t be dragging around a comatose angel. Looking around the plaza, you spotted a motel just down the street, giving you an idea. “I think Cas needs a little R and R.”

While you and Dean worked together on getting Cas settled for the duration of your stay, Sam worked on figuring out where your parents were in good old 1978. At this point, your parents had been married for almost five years now. Mary and John were newlyweds that just so happen to live down the street from them. She joked in her journal that wherever one of them, another would follow behind. A nervous feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as you headed over to Sam, who had been flipping through the phone book, trying to find out where everyone was before the kids came along to ruin everything. You could feel a smile spread across your lips for a moment when you took notice of the terrible moustache that a guy had. You wondered if John or your father had ever made a bold fashion statement like that.

“So I paid for Cas for five nights up in the honeymoon suite. We told the manager ‘do not disturb no matter what. You know what he said to me?” Dean asked his little brother, retelling of the conversation you just witnessed. You let out a quiet chuckle as you rolled your eyes. Things were really different back then from what he was used to. “‘Yeah. Don’t sweat it. Want to buy some dope’? Dope. We ought to stick around here, buy some stock in Microsoft.”

“Yeah, we might have to if Cas doesn’t recover.” Sam said, showing off that pessimistic attitude that you really didn’t want to see right now. “Is he all right?”

“What do I look like, Sammy—Dr. Angel, medicine woman? He’ll wake up. He’s, you know, tough for a little nerdy due with wings. And if he landed here like that, there’s no doubt Anna did, too. It should buy us a little time.” You reassured the younger man. You glanced down to see Sam was holding a folded piece of paper, striking your curiosity. “So, did you find them?”

“Yeah. Uh,” Sam unfolded the pieces of paper that he had ripped out from the phone book to read off the names of his parents. “The Winchesters. 485 Robin Tree. You won’t get this. The Y/L/N’s just so happen to live in 488 Robin Tree. Looks like we’re neighbors.”

“Better for us. It’ll be one big, awkward family reunion.” Dean said. “Let’s go pop in on the folks.”

You found yourself glued to your spot in the middle of the sidewalk at the thought of meeting your parents, your father especially. During this time of their life, they were enjoying their marriage, all while struggling to have a child, all which failed miserably. Not to mention of seeing Mary and John again…all of this felt a little too surreal to be happening. But you weren’t here to walk down memory lane and see what was before you arrived into the world. Inhaling a deep breath, you put one foot in front of the other, getting yourself prepared to meet the parents.

\+ + +

A small little two story house with the porch light on belonged to John and Mary Winchester. You examined the names of the newlywed couple that was printed in black ink on a faded piece of gray paper that was hard to read underneath the streetlamp that provided little light as it came in from the backseat window. Even with the technology and fashion senses that were outdated in your standards, it still hadn’t hit you quite yet that you were in the year of 1978. One year before either one of the Winchester boys were born into this world, and a still a daydream for your own parents. Before your mother figured out how to get exactly what she wanted. You let out a faint sigh as you folded up the piece of paper when Dean shut off the engine and slipped himself out of the front seat so you could get out. He’d stolen some hideous blue two-door car to get all of you here. You placed your hands on the seat that was folded out halfway to get yourself out, but it seemed you weren’t working fast enough for the younger Winchester.

The idea of meeting his mother, someone who had died when he was just six months old and only seen in what little photographs his family had, made him bolt out of the passenger’s seat. You called out to the man when he passed you and Dean by, you pushed yourself free and followed after the boys when his brother tried to stop him from making a complete fool of himself. You had to admit, you were a bit excited at the thought of seeing the happy Winchester back together. But Sam had to keep in mind you and Dean had been here before five years ago. You’d left Mary right after her parents were murdered by Azazel. You had a feeling she wouldn’t be all too welcoming to a couple strangers that left her high and dry after such a tragedy.

“Hold on there Sasquatch,” You hissed at him as you managed to catch up with the two men. You grabbed a hold of Sam’s arm and yanked him back slightly when you caught him off guard. “I don’t think it’s a great idea if we just go up there without a plan of action, at least.”

“Y/N, Anna could be here any second.” Sam reminded you, as if you didn’t think of that possibility.

“What exactly are we gonna march up there and tell ‘em?” Dean asked his little brother. Sam spent a few moments on the plan before deciding the truth might work best , you quietly scoffed at how hilarious that would turn out if you did. “What, that their sons are back from the future to save them from an angel gone ‘Terminator’? Come on. Those movies haven’t even come out yet. And what about Y/N’s parents? They still think kids aren’t in their cards.”

“Well, then tell her and Ella demons are after ‘em.” Sam suggested an idea to consider. “I mean, she thinks you both are hunters, right?”

“Yeah, a couple of hunters who disappeared right when her dad died. She’s gonna love us.” Dean mumbled. He fell silent for a second as his eyes lingered over to the house, suddenly realizing that this was happening, he was going to be meeting his own mother again. And it wasn’t going to be easy. Letting out a quiet breath, Dean knew that he couldn’t stall any longer, knowing well enough Sam was right about the possibility that Anna could be here any moment. He had a plan, it just hadn’t come to him yet. “Just follow my lead.”

Dean began walking across the empty street when he noticed no cars were coming, you and his brother followed behind to his trail to the porch, all the way up to the front door. A knot began to sit in your stomach when you stood just a foot away from seeing Mr. and Mrs. Winchester when one of you did the honors of pressing the doorbell. You heard the familiar chimes echo through the house, signaling that they had an unexpected guest awaiting them. It felt like a lifetime had gone by while you waited for someone to answer the door. You took the time to try and imagine what Mary would look like now, five years into when you last seen her, but the person who opened up the door with a smiling face as she looked over her shoulder to acknowledge her husband that brought on the happiness, was none other than Mary Winchester herself. She looked forward to greet her guests with a smile, but after a few seconds, when she examined your face, the smile slowly crept off her face.

“Hi, Mary.” You greeted the woman with a warm smile of your own, hoping she wouldn’t have kept a harsh grudge against you or Dean after all these years. The look on her face told you that she wasn’t exactly happy to see the both of you standing on her front porch.

“You can’t be here.” Mary told you, making sure to keep her voice low so John wouldn’t hear.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time.” You apologized to her, trying to remain formal as you could with her, trying to keep the overwhelming feeling suppressed from changing your behavior. It was still overwhelming to see Mary Winchester in the flesh. The woman who was the mother of two men standing next to you, the one who had sealed her own fate that would soon lead her own children to the path of hunting. Even though she tried so hard from running away from her past, it seemed that she wouldn’t have expected to show up again right on her doorstep all over again.

“You don’t understand. I’m not…”

Mary’s voice hardened when it seemed that you didn’t get the point she wasn’t in the business anymore. She found herself trailing off for a moment when felt someone’s gaze lingering on her for much longer than what was making her feel comfortable with. Glancing over to the stranger standing next to you, she furrowed her brow when she noticed Sam just staring at her with awe. You turned your head slightly to see that he was examining her with so much amazement. This was the woman who had started this all, who turned his father into a madman when she died. She had no idea how special this moment was for him. While you and Dean had very fuzzy memories of the woman, Sam was just a little baby when she died. He had no idea of who she really was, until this very second. This would be his first and only memory that he would be able to keep for himself. No description would ever be good enough for who he saw in front of him. She had exceeded his expectations from the decades he tried imagining her in his head. Mary ignored his behavior when her anger had come back, she turned her attention over to her oldest son and gave him a tight smile.

“I don’t do that anymore.” Mary simply said. “I have normal life now. You have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized as he reached out his hand to stop the woman from shutting the door on the three of you. She gave him a warning stare when he leaned himself slightly on the door to keep it open for a few seconds longer. “But this is important, okay?”

The conversation took a pause for a moment when you heard the sound of a male voice clearing their throat, catching everyone off guard. John Winchester, a man you’d known since your late teens, stepped out from behind his wife to see who were the unfamiliar faces standing out on his porch. He greeted all of you with a welcoming smile as he opened up the door wider. You had met him briefly back in 1973 at the diner, but you had to admit, he was a different version of himself from the one you’d known. It would be easy to say that John was obviously a shadow of himself from his younger appearance, but you could tell just from looking into his eye. There was a bit of life in them. But there was one thing you had to admit that didn’t change with time, and that was his handsome looks that he’d passed down to both of his boys.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Mary apologized to her husband as she gave him a smile. John wrapped arm around his wife’s waist, not knowing much longer he would be able to show the small affection touch to the woman as she tried to get all of you out of here. “They’re just…”

“Mary’s cousins.” Dean said, finding the perfect opportunity to sneak in a little white lie to keep you here just a little longer. Mary wasn’t happy, but she pretended to be pleased as the man dragged out your welcome that was very much overstayed in her mind. “Yeah, we couldn’t stop through town without swinging by and saying ‘hey,’ now, could we? Dean. This is Y/N.”

You reached out your hand when Dean introduced you to his father to shake his. John gave you a smile, but you noticed that he stared at you for a moment and kept your grip in his, wondering to himself of where he might have seen you or Dean before. “You both look familiar.”

“Really?” You asked, pretending to sound surprised. You glanced over at Mary to see a look of panic had set in her face at the thought of John seeing into this lie, but you were good at thinking on your toes, and followed right through with a little small talk that would help push things along without a problem. “Yeah, you do, too, actually, you know? We must have met sometime. Small towns, right? Gotta love ‘em.”

The man let go of your hand to look ahead at the younger man standing next to you. As John had introduced himself to who he thought was a stranger, not knowing the connection that had. You reached out and placed a hand on Sam’s back and introduced the both of them, all though, it was more out of support for what the poor guy was going through all at once. “Sam.” John repeated the name, making a connection from how familiar it sounded to him. “Uh, Mary’s father was a Sam.”

“It’s a family name.” You said, shrugging off the coincidence with another smile of your own.

John nodded his head at the information and tugged on his arm lightly to pull away from Sam, but he noticed that the other man wouldn’t let go, and it seemed he had no intention when he had tried once again. The man furrowed his brow when he noticed Sam had this look on his face that seemed a bit peculiar, making him wonder might have caused it. “You okay there, pal?” John asked with concern, taking notice of the odd behavior. “You look a little spooked.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Sam said as he nodded his head and pulled his hand away before things could get even more awkward. He let out a breath as if he were exhausted and gave the man a small smile to try and excuse his demeanor. “Just a…long trip.”

“Well,” Mary was happy the introductions were over, knowing the next part was the farewell she was hoping to have to continue on with her quiet evening. “Y/N and the boys were just on their way out.”

“What? They just got here. Real happy to meet folks from Mary’s side.” John said at the rare treat that he thought would never come of. She was an only child and with her parents dead, the man presumed he wouldn’t get to see more of her side, but here the three of you were. He decided to go against his wife’s wishes and extended the visit a little longer. “Please come on in for a beer.”

Dean gave the man a polite smile he wouldn’t refuse, “Twist my arm.”

You and the boys gladly accepted the offer into their home, despite the unhappy looks which came from Mary, but you chose to ignore them as her husband ushered you into the living room. Soon you found yourself sitting on a couch, stuck between the boys and holding a cold beer bottle in your hand, taking every opportunity you could to observe what you could about the Winchester family before the era of children. In all honesty, you were looking for any sort of excuse not to stare at the two people sitting across from you. You weren’t only meeting the younger people that were friends with your parents, but they were also the mother and father of the man you had been dating for almost two years now. Sam, however, didn’t have any shame in staring at Mary. He cherished every second she would give him to memorize every little detail about her.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sam?” John asked one more time.

“W—Oh. Yeah, yea. Um, I’m just, um…” Sam tried his hardest to come up with an excuse to try and come across creepy, but it seemed that his mind had disconnected with his mouth. His gaze fell back to his mother, and without even thinking about it, he gave her a soft smile as the compliment just fell out. “You are so beautiful.”

You felt yourself become frozen in your spot at what he’d just let stumble out without thought of the consequences. Sam quickly realized his mistake when John leaned out of his seat as Mary looked at the man with confusion at what he just said. He tried his hardest to apologize for how he was acting, but Dean came to his rescue before things could turn sour. “He means that in a non-weird, wholesome, family kind of way.” The oldest Winchester said. Sam nodded his head in agreement. Mary didn’t change her expression as her eyes narrowed on the men. “We haven’t seen Mary in—in quite some time, and—see, she’s the spitting image of our mom. I mean, it’s—”

“Eerie.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath. 

“So,” John looked at the younger man for a second longer, trying to brush off what had just unfolded and tried to change the subject to something else that would help switch up the mood before it could get awkward. “How are you guys related?”

“Well, distantly. My mom was more of…family friend, per say.” You answered for him, shrugging your shoulders at the excuse that you could come up with for yourself.

“Oh.” John mumbled, seeming to understand that part, as you looked nothing much like the family. You gave him a small smile as you averted your gaze away so you wouldn’t find yourself staring at him for too long. Your eyes drifted to a picture that was sitting on the end table. A small smile spread across your lips at the sight of four familiar faces, the Winchesters and Y/L/Ns, all smiling, enjoying the pre-baby days that would be ahead for them in the near future. And everything else that would come soon after the three of you arrived into the world. “So you knew Mary’s parents?”

“Yeah. Mary’s dad, he was, uh…” Dean grew a bit of a smile at what he was able to say next at how true it was . “Pretty much like a grandpa to us.”

“That was tragic—that heart attack.” John mentioned the unfortunate news, wondering if you might have heard it yourself. You nodded your head as you glanced down at your shoes, knowing well enough you’d seen the man before his last moments on earth. He comforted his wife when she had grown an expression that was uncomfortable when he thought it was brought on from the tragic news that still made her upset. She gave him a small smile when he squeezed her hand, knowing there was more than she would ever admit. But it was clear enough from the anger that you could feel coming off her that you were the cause of her deadpan stare. She was wondering what all of you were doing here after all of this time. Her husband beat her to the question before she could ask herself. “So, uh, what are you doing in town, anyway?”

“Uh, business,” Dean answered as he rubbed his hands together, “You know.”

“Oh, yeah?” John asked, sounding curious of what the three of you did for a living. “What line of work?”

“Plumbing.”

“Scrap metal.” 

 

“Substitute teacher.”

“Oh, gosh. It’s almost seven.” Mary found the opportunity to kick the three of you out of her house when she spotted the time on the clock. She pushed herself up to her feet and gave all of you a smile, deciding she’d had enough of this. “I hate to be rude, but I got to get dinner ready.”

“Maybe they could stay.” John wondered, Mary shook her head as she said something about how all of you had to leave. The conversation was paused for a moment when they heard the phone ringing from the kitchen, John pushed himself to his feet, only before keeping his welcome open for the three of you. “Look, please stay. You know, it would mean a lot to me. I haven’t met much of Mary’s side of the family.”

John left the conversation at that as he pushed himself to his feet and tended to the ringing phone off in the kitchen. You watched as he disappeared into the kitchen, but that didn’t stop Mary from revoking your invitation when you and the boys got to your feet to try and explain why you were here in the first place. “You have to leave. Now.” She ordered. Dean tried his hardest to explain himself, but the woman wasn’t in the mood for excuses when she cut him off. “No, you listen. Last time I saw you two, a demon killed my parents. Now you waltz in here like you’re family? Whatever you want—no. Leave me alone.”

“You, John and the Y/L/N’s are in danger.” You told the woman straight out, deciding it was best to stop beating around the bush and get straight to the point.

“What are you talking about?” Mary asked you with a confused expression. “Ella and Andy aren’t even in the state. I just got off the phone with the phone with them. They sounded fine to me.”

“Something’s coming for all of you.” Dean informed her the bad news. 

 

Mary’s face dropped into a slightly panicked expression at the thought of a familiar friend coming back to haunt her with a pair of yellow eyes, “Demon?”

“Not exactly.” You told her ever so quietly with hesitance at giving her the real answer.

“Well, what, then?” She questioned all of you.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Dean admitted, “It’s—it’s—”

“An angel.” Sam cut off his brother, telling the woman what kind of threat you were up against when you and Dean were too hesitant to spill the truth.

Mary seemed only amused at the idea from the smile and laugh that came out from her, “What? There’s no such thing.

“I wish.” Dean muttered underneath his breath at her presumption. It sure would have made your lives easier if angels were just fictional creatures that lived in the holy bible. “But they’re twice as strong as demons, and bigger dicks.”

“Why would an angel want to kill us?” Mary asked, now starting to be confused at what was going on here when she slowly started to believe what you were telling her.

“It’s a long story, and we’ll tell you the whole thing, but right now, you’ve got to trust us and we got to go.” Dean said, giving her little options here. Mary seemed hesitant to go anywhere with you or him after the last time you had left her high and dry. She even thought for a moment that this might have been a trick, and all of you were the real threat here. But there was little time for her to think this over. “Look at my face and tell me if I’m lying to you.”

Mary stared into the eyes of the man that she only viewed as some hunter who had ruined her life after he disappeared without a trace. But she could see something that was familiar in him, some sort of connection that made her feel close to him, like she knew him longer than the few days you had been meddling in her past to try and change things. “Okay.” She agreed. “Where do we go?”

“Out of here.” Dean told her. “We got to move now, though.”

“Wait, wait.” You stopped everyone when you realized Mary had mentioned something about your parents and how they had been out of the state right now. “What about Ella and Andrew? Where are they exactly?”

“They’re halfway across the country in New York City. Andy surprised Ella with a vacation. Both of them had an unexpected loss in the family a few months ago. She’d been pretty upset, so he tried cheering her up with with this trip.” Mary explained to you, giving you a bit of insight to what had been going on while you were gone. You understood just from the look on her face of what she meant by that. Five years and it was the struggle of miscarriage after miscarriage for them. It meant that both of them were a safe distance away from Anna for now. Mary looked over her shoulder and at the kitchen, remembering suddenly of her husband that had took a call, and was obvlious still to the things around him that went bump in the night. “I talked to the both of them before you came here and they’re fine. But what do I tell John?”

“Just tell him—” Dean tried to give the woman some excuse to use, but he found himself falling silent for a moment when he heard the house had grow eerily silent when all of you took notice the muffled noises coming from the kitchen had stopped. “John?”

The four of you didn’t need to exchange words when all of you walked forward to the kitchen, quietly fearful of what might have happened to the man during the few minutes that he was alone. You looked around the small house to see if John might have been hiding in some corner, but when you stepped into the kitchen, it was empty. Mary looked over at the phone hanging on the wall to see her husband had written a message for her. He’d left and be back in fifteen minutes. But you had a feeling if you weren’t fast enough, the man would never return.

\+ + +

Lucky for you, Mary had an idea of where her husband might have been. John was offered a job at a mechanic shop not too far from where they lived. But nothing was set in stone for him. It could have been a possibility that Anna posed at his boss to have come in for a meeting to discuss the terms of the offer from the conversation that she overheard. You and the boys noticed she was right from the sounds of crashing that were coming in the garage. Even with four hunters trained, you only had one knife that could kill an angel. Dean decided to try his luck at least attempting to slow her down, and if that didn’t work, you would blow her off the face of the Kansas for a little while until you could trap her like an animal and put her out of her misery but Anna could cause any harm that would damage the future than it might already have been.

You separated yourself from the group when Mary went looking for her husband and Sam got himself ready for plan b. You rounded the corner with a knife of your own to pick a spot decent enough to draw the sigil on. But you stopped in your tracks when you heard the sound of crashing coming from where you’d been hiding. You peeked out from the side of the car and frowned in anger at seeing Anna in the flesh once more, and how she greeted Dean by throwing him across the room and into a glass window. You noticed the knife not too far from where he’d dropped it. When she wasn’t looking, you jumped to your feet and grabbed the knife before Anna could. You stood tall when you came face to face with the angel again, after all this time, you gave her a nod from what you had to do.

“I wish I could say it’s good to see you, Anna.” You said, gripping the knife with a tight grip.

“You too, Y/N.” Anna said. You could hear her voice come across as solemn, as if she was going to feel guilty about what she had to do. But you had a feeling she really wasn’t. "I’m sorry.”

You let out a scoff from her apology, “I’m not.”

You took your first opportunity to strike at her, hoping for a quick move to the gut would do the job, but Anna was a fast healer, she managed to dodge the attack. You a few more times at trying to swing a jab at her, hoping one would stick, but all good you gotten was knicking her palm. Anna let out a gasp from the pain and took a moment to inspect her wound that was bleeding, which was a good sign for you. You took her moment of weakness to kick her in the stomach to give yourself a bit of distance from her. But when you took a second to recover, Anna was gone, making you let out a few inappropriate words underneath your breath as you looked around to see where she could have disappeared off to. You never let your guard down as you examined every single inch of this place, and paying extra attention to behind you, as that was a weak spot all monsters loved abusing. As you took a few steps back, you turned your head to the side for just a moment, but it was the feeling of someone’s grip on your arm holding the knife.

“I’m truly am sorry, Y/N.” Anna apologized once more for what she was about to do.

You tried to tug your arm away from the angel, but you had no reaction time before she was lifting you up from the ground and tossing you into the air, making you land back first into the windshield of a red mustang. The knife fell to the ground, abandoned once more. You winced from the pain that settled into your body from the impact and the glass shards digging into your exposed skin. But you persevered. You pushed yourself to your hands and knees and began crawling across the car until you were on the roof, trying to find anything that could at least slow Anna down just by a bit until you could find the knife. As you sat on the hood for a second to try and bottle down the pain, you noticed a flash of blonde hair come out from the corner of your eye while Anna circled around you, waiting to pounce on you.

Mary had come out from nowhere when she noticed an iron crowbar sitting on top one of the tool boxes. She grabbed a hold of it, and just as Anna approached, she took the opportunity to lunge the crowbar directly into the woman’s chest, thinking that it would have done the job. But Anna acted like the tool sticking out of her chest was nothing. Mary’s eyes widened in surprise when she watched as the other woman pulled out the crowbar without even flinching.

“Sorry. It’s not that easy to kill an angel.” Anna told the young woman.

“No. But you can distract ‘em.” You agreed with her on that point. Anna looked over at you from what you had said. You looked at the angel for a moment, all before you moved your gaze to the man standing across the room with a bloody palm and waiting for your cue. “Sammy, showtime!”

Sam didn’t waste another second when he pressed his palm against the sigil, and as the effect, causing a bright light to blind your sight. You shielded your eyes for a moment and waited until it was back to normal before you looked to see if it worked again. Looking around the garage, you let out a sigh to see that Anna was nowhere to be seen, but you had another problem rising. Mary spotted her husband across the room with a look on his face that was more than confusion. He had witnessed this entire situation unfolded, and his realization of the supernatural had come much sooner than you had anticipated.

\+ + +

“Monsters. Monsters?”

“Yes.”

You sat in the backseat of the Impala like old times, but the only difference was that you had John in the front seat with a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and his very quiet wife in the passenger’s seat. And you were stuck between their two sons. John had tried to wrap his head around what he’d just witnessed back at the mechanic shop. He seemed to have been taking the reality of evil out there easier than you thought. It was the secret of his wife and good friend that pushed him over the edge with frustration.

“Monsters are real.” John found himself repeating the information once again, trying to get it to settle in his brain. And his wife, the woman he’d known for the past several years, had kept part of her life hidden from him for so long. Mary tried to apologize, overwhelmed with the guilt at the anger she caused her husband, but John cut her off by asking more questions. “And you hunt them? All of you? Ella, too?”

“Yes.” You answered the man in a mousy tone.

John shook his head from what was going on, “How long?”

“All my life.” Mary whispered. She was silent for a moment at the confession. In the dark she could see her husband was overwhelmed with the information that she was feeding him, and it was only getting worse. “John, just try to understand—”

“She didn’t exactly have a choice—” Dean tried to defend his mother, but Papa Winchester wasn’t in the mood for it.

“Shut up, all of you!” John ordered to the four of you, cashing the slightest chuckle to escape your mouth from how he was acting. But you knew that was the Marines talking here from the way that he took control. ”Look, not another word or so help me I will turn this car around!”

You knew the man wasn’t serious about bailing out on the only chance of stopping Anna for good. But his threat made you feel like this situation was very different than what it was. You were sitting inside the car with the Winchester parents in front and their kids in the back, who had been acting out. You managed to bite your bottom lip to keep a smile from spreading across your lips, adding only fuel to the fire when John glanced up in the rear view mirror for a split second. Dean, however, found the situation a bit weird from the remark that he made underneath his breath to you and his little brother, quiet enough so his young father wouldn’t hear.

“Wow. Awkward family road trip.”

\+ + +

It was about a twenty minute drive into the middle of nowhere when Mary pointed out a house that was in the middle of miles of empty land. You noticed just from the exterior of the house that the place hadn’t been live in for decades. But it didn’t serve as a purpose for comfort. Mary lead you inside of the place with the three men following behind. She switched on some lights so it would be easier to the house without tripping over whatever debris that might be around. You took notice that it was in shambles, but it made a good place to store all sorts of weapons one might need if danger came knocking on a hunter’s door.

“Place has been in the family for years.” Mary said. She walked over to one of the rugs and bent down to push it up to reveal a very familiar marking that had you slightly shifting your footing. You couldn’t be too careful with Mary. There was enough things going on, you didn’t want to explain to a hunter of why you were stuck in a trap that was meant for demons. The place looked decent enough to set up bait for Anna. “Devil’s trap. Pure iron fixtures, of course. Um, there should be salt and holy water in the pantry, knives, guns.”

“All that stuff will do is piss it off.” Sam said.

“So, what will kill it?” Mary asked him. “Or slow it down, at least?”

“Not much.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

Mary let out a scoff from what she was hearing, “Great.”

“She said not much, not nothing. We packed.” Dean lifted up the duffel bag he carried out from the car and headed over to the table to put it down and unpack a few important things that Cas had given you. Dean pulled out a small piece of paper with the sigil written down so it would be a good guidance for Mary to use. “If we put this up, and she comes close, we beam her right off the starship.”

“This is holy oil.” Sam said. He took out of the ceramic jars from the bag and showed Mary it and explained what it was for. “It’s kind of like a—like a devil’s trap for angels. Come on. I’ll show you how it works.”

Mary nodded her head as she turned around in her spot to follow the man behind and get started on an easy part of the plan. But before she joined the younger man, she noticed that John was standing right next to her, watching her with a close eye. She gave him an apologetic look from what she had dragged him into before following behind Sam. You and Dean worked together by gathering what supplies you might need. As you placed down the knife on the table, you looked up when John spoke up, his attention going to the scrap of paper you’d just talked about.

“Hey, what’s the deal with the thing on the paper?” John asked you. You glanced down at the paper before looking up at the man. All though you were a bit unsure of what it was yourself, you tried to explain that it was a sigil, but the man cut you off when you had answered his question wrong. “I don’t care what it means. Where does it go?”

“In our experience, on a wall or a door.” You told him.

 

“How big should I make it?” He asked you another question. You looked away from the man and to Dean. Both of you were unsure if it was safe enough to let John in on the fight, but he wasn’t going to be backed into a corner. You forgotten that he had served time in the Marines, the man had seen his own sorts of evil out in the world himself. “Y’all might have treated me like a fool, but I am not useless. I can draw a damn…whatever it is—a sigil.”

“Why don’t you go help Sam out? Okay, ‘cause this has got to be done in…” Dean trailed off for a second, wondering if he should tell the man the truth, thinking it might make him a bit disturbed. But it wasn’t like the man wasn’t going to do and see far more disturbing things. So, he told the man. “It’s got to be done in human blood.”

John wasn’t scared at what Dean told him. He reached out and grabbed the hunting knife, taking off the protective cover, he threw it to table and proceeded to slice his palm so a small pool of blood began to collect in his palm. “So, how big?”

“Here. I’ll show you.” You offered as you grabbed the paper from the table. You nodded your head to one of the empty rooms around the corner, leaving Dean alone for a few seconds. Both of you headed to another spot of the house, but you found yourself stopping in your tracks, a small chuckle escaped you from how this situation was. You slowly looked over your shoulder to take a moment and observe this younger version of this John. He looked at you a bit funny, wondering what was so amusing to you. “All of a sudden, you—you really remind me of someone I was close to. He was like a dad to me. Taught me everything I know.”

John nodded his head slowly, not knowing that you were talking about him. You looked straight ahead when you felt a small smile beginning to spread across your lips and searched for an empty wall that would be good practice for him to start with. John did teach you everything you knew about how to protect yourself. It felt good to be able to do this for him.

\+ + +

The five of you had been at the Campbell compound for almost an hour now; you had Sam working on the sigils with John after you taught him how to do it properly and Dean preparing Mary to what to do with the holy oil when Anna made her appearance. You kept to yourself when everyone had dispersed into their own little groups, deciding that it might be best if you let the boys have a moment alone with their parents. Sam had never met his own mother, and Dean had only remembered her a small child. This was going to be their very last memory of the woman and their own father, you wanted to give them much time as possible with them before it was too late.

You concentrated most of your effort on overlooking the sigils to see if you had enough and then working on pouring the holy oil in the small living room so you would be prepared. When you were satisfied with your own work, you stepped back, holding the ceramic jars in your grip, unknowing that you had taken a precautionary move when you heard a voice break you out of your own personal thoughts

“Okay.” You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Mary speak out of the blue, breaking you out of your concentration on the floor. You turned around in your spot to see she was standing next to you with an impatient look on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. She reminded you of the time you and Dean would play at his house. When you gotten too loud, you would wake Sam up from his nap, causing Mary to become angry. That look made the memory suddenly cross your mind, but it only lasted for a few seconds before was bringing you back into reality. “You said you would explain everything when we had a minute. We have a minute. Why does an angel want me and Ella dead?”

“Because they’re dicks.” You tried answering her the most vague way possible, and while it had caused her to let out a quiet chuckle, you knew it was only a temporary fix to this problem.

“Not good enough. I didn’t even know they existed, and now I’m a target?” Mary asked, knowing there was something wrong with this picture. You clutched the ceramic jar tighter as you averted her gaze much as possible as you mumbled that it was complicated. You had no right to tell her the truth, but she was giving you little chances to explain yourself. “Fine. All ears.”

 

“Look, I would love to tell you why we’re here. But I can’t. It’s…It’s not my place. Okay?” You told her flatout. What would you even tell her, anyway? That the two boys you had showed up to her front door earlier this evening are really her children and you’re the daughter of a couple who thinks they’ll never have children. You gave her an apologetic stare when Mary continued to look at you with a frustrated glare from the lack of bending you would do for her. “You’re just gonna have to trust us.”

“I’ve been trusting you all day.” Mary argued with you. You turned your head away from her as you clenched your jaw in your own frustration from her attitude that wouldn’t back down until she got what she wanted. And you wondered where the boys got most of their personality from. Both of them were a spitting image of John Mary, and while you wanted to tell her the truth, you remained silent, it was the final straw for the woman. “All right, then. I’m walking out the door.”

“Mary,” You called out her name with a panicked tone as you watched her stay true to her promise as she turned around to walk forward to the front door. “I can explain—”

“I’m your son.”

Dean’s voice made you and his own mother freeze in your spot from what you heard the man speak. You slowly looked across the room to the entrance that separated the living room and the dining room. He stood there with a calm expression on his face from what he had just admitted, meanwhile, you stared at the man like he was the crazy one here. Mary looked at him with a funny expression as she stood to face him, wondering what exactly Dean had meant by that. The man began taking a few steps forward to her to tell her the whole truth.

“I’m your son. And this is Ella’s daughter.” Dean said, coming out with the truth as if he was just discussing the weather. You warned the older Winchester by mumbling his name underneath your breath. He was going to be opening up a whole can of disaster by giving her this information, but it seemed Mary wanted to know everything. “Sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. We’re from the year 2010. An angel zapped us back here…not the one that attacked you—friendlier.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that.” Mary said, trying to call his bluff. “Ella can’t have children. She told me herself.”

“This is Y/N Y/L/N. My brother’s name and mine are Dean and Sam Winchester. We’re named after your parents.” Dean told her more information, thinking it might have been enough for the young woman to believe that he was telling the truth. Mary furrowed her brow slightly as she took her gaze off her child and to you for a moment. You looked at her right in the eye, giving her no indication that Dean was lying to her. “Y/N and I both got sick one time with the flu. You were afraid Sam would get it so you sent him to stay a few days with Ella and Andrew and Y/N stayed with us. You made us tomato-rice soup, because that’s what your mom made you. And instead of a lullaby, you would sing ‘Hey Jude’ ‘cause that’s your favorite Beatles song.”

Mary was stricken silent from everything that she was hearing. She quickly looked away when she found tears starting to form in her eyes, little bits of information had been pulled from her own childhood. The woman inhaled a deep breath as she composed herself long enough to fight her emotions to compose a proper sentence. “I don’t believe it. No.” Mary mumbled as she shook her head slightly. She sniffled as she tried to wrap her head around what her oldest son had said. You mumbled that you were sorry, but all of it was true. You could see the despair rise into her expression when she realized how all three of you came out. “I raised my kids to be hunters? Ella, if she ever got the chance…she wouldn’t do that. How could we do that to you?”

“You didn’t do it…because the both of you are dead.” You explained to her. You swallowed when you watched as she reacted to the information that you were feeding her. Mary was taken back from the surprise twist of events that she would have never expected to come, but she managed to pull herself together, long enough, to ask you what happened. “Yellow-eyed demon. My mom—Ella made a deal with him. To have me. She thought ten years wasn’t enough so…she made another one. Instead she used Andrew’s soul and sold it to another demon. Azazel killed you when we were just little kids. Ella ran away because she was scared he might cole for her. But John, he…”

“John became a hunter to get revenge. He raised us in this life.” Dean continued on, giving her more of the story that was everything she never wanted to happen. Mary looked away when she could feel the tears starting to come back. Dean fell silent for a moment from what he was about to do again. He warned the woman once before about this, but he was hopeful that a second time would be enough to change fate for good. “Listen to me. A demon comes into Sam’s nursery exactly six months after he’s born—November second, 1983. Remember that date. And whatever you do…do not go in there. You wake up that morning and you take Sam and you run.”

“That’s not good enough, Dean.” You turned your head away from the oldest Winchester when you heard another voice jump into the conversation. Sam leaned himself against the doorframe after eavesdropping on the conversation for the past few minutes. He knew too well of how this would play out. The special children had parents who made deal with Azazel, and despite most of them dying the exact same way Mary had, there were a select few who had lived normal lives, but still the same curse played out like the demon had anticipated. “Wherever she goes, the demon’s gonna find her…find me.”

“Well, then what?” You questioned the younger man, wondering what he was getting at here.

“She can leave Dad, that’s what.” Sam said. You looked at the younger man like he’d gone crazy for his idea that could solve this entire situation without putting anyone else in danger. It would only destroy a happy marriage and the future relationship all three of you would have. Mary was upset at the suggestion when she turned her gaze to look at Sam. He wasn’t happy himself at what he said, but it’s what had to be done. “You got to leave John. When all of this is over, walk away…and never look back.”

“So we’re never born.” Dean mumbled to himself, suddenly understanding what his little brother was trying to get at here with his crazy ideas. “He’s right.”

“I-I can’t. You’re saying that you’re my children,” Mary said as she became upset at what was being decided for her without her consent. It was a happy surprise to know that in her near future things would look bright with two boys, with the added touch that her friend had a child of her own, and had developed a bond that lasted through the years. Maybe if she could figure something else out, she could change the future. “And now you’re saying—”

“You have no other choice.” Sam said, stopping her from trying to change her mind.

“There’s a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me, we’re okay with it, I promise you that.” Dean reassured his mother. You furrowed your brow in anger from what he was suggesting. All though you knew that the boys were getting onto something here that might actually be a bulletproof plan, you were hesitant to agreeing with it. You had no doubt your mother would have made the deal to have you. It was just a matter of time. it was the second deal that you thought pushed things over the edge. But you couldn’t imagine your life without the boys, how different things would be. Mary shook her head in disagreement as she rested her hand against her chest.

“Listen, you think that you can have a normal life that you want so bad…but you can’t. I’m sorry. It’s all gonna go rotten.” Sam explained to the woman, giving her the bitter truth that he had faced himself. In the exact same fashion of his father of what he had go through with the woman he loved. “You are gonna die, and your children will be cursed.”

Mary fell silent from what she was being told by her two children. She didn’t know what to do, or who to trust anymore. In the back of her head, the hunter that she’d tried to hide, was telling her that they were telling the truth. But the newly blossomed woman, the one who was starting to grow a bit more maternal, could see from the expression on your face that you would do anything for this not to happen. “There,” Mary spoke up once more, finding her voice again to fight this decision. “There has to be a way.”

“No, this is the way. Leave John.” Dean told his own mother flatout. She argued with him again by saying that she couldn’t, and didn’t give an explanation of why she couldn’t leave the man that she loved. “This is bigger than us. There are so many more lives at stake—”

 

“You don’t understand. I can’t.” Mary cut off her child, giving him the same excuse again. She was holding something from all of you from the way she suddenly grew quiet all over again. You could tell from the look on her face, too. She glanced around the room, knowing this conversation was about to get very strange from what she was about to admit to the three of you. “It’s too late. I’m…I’m pregnant.”

“Hey, we got a problem.” John sure had impeccable timing when he came running into the room with some news of his own. You and the boys had little time to react to the news that Mary had dropped about being one with child. John must have heard none of the conversation when he discovered something that was too unsettling for him to let pass by as normal. “Those blood things, the sigils—they’re gone. I-I drew one on the back of the door. I turned around. And when I looked back again, it was a smudge.” 

“Great. As if things couldn’t get worse.” You grumbled underneath your breath. You put out your foot to see for yourself, but you noticed something strange when you took a step forward. You glanced down on the ground to see that it was completely dry. “Crap. There’s no more holy oil.”

The lack of protection was going to be the least of your problems from what was about to happen next. You didn’t nowhere it was coming from, but you were suddenly pressing your hands against your ears when you heard the high-pitched frequency that made you wince in pain. It was only a second later that everyone could hear what was causing you so much discomfort. You dropped to your knees at the sound that felt like someone was jamming knifes into your ears. While Sam tried drawing out the knife for protection, the noise overwhelmed himself before he surrendered. As the noise grew louder, you ducked for cover when the windows around you all shattered, making little specs of the glass shoot at all of you like weapons of their own from the enemy that was only speaking to the five of you.

It was a few seconds after it started that you felt the excruciating pain disappear, leaving with a loud ringing in your ears that was the result. You slowly dropped your hands to your side and looked around, wondering if you were going to spot Anna in the room, but the place was eerily quiet. But things didn’t last calm for too long. You pushed yourself to your feet when the door behind Dean swung wide open, with nobody standing in the doorway. You furrowed your brow from what was going on, expecting it might be a cheap trick at catching you off guard, you took a step backwards and looked around the room, wondering where the hell Anna was. But it seemed Anna had a friend that wanted to join in on the fun. Your head shot forward when you saw a man finally step out to make his grand entrance. 

 

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked the stranger.

“I’m Uriel.” The angel answered, taking the moment to fix the cuffs on his perfectly pressed dress shirt and tucked them through his suit jacket.

You rolled your eyes in frustration from the faces that you were seeing. You turned your head to the staircase to see Anna herself, deciding it was time to make her appearance. Four hunters and a Marine. The odds might have been in your favor if you were facing against a couple of demons. You had a feeling this was going to be a fight that wasn’t going to be easy. But you and the boys weren’t going down without a fight. You’d be damned if you let anything happen to the Mary and John. Not to mention, she was pregnant, with Dean. As if your lives couldn’t get any weirder. You took a step behind you as you locked eyes with Anna. If only Cas was here, you might have had a winning chance at this. But you would just have to do without him.

Sam lunged at Anna with the knife held up high as Dean went against Uriel, which was a losing fight he knew coming into. You stepped behind you again so you were guarding their parents best as you could when Dean got throw across the room. You hopes were high with Sam, but he was taken off guard when Anna grabbed ahold of him by the arm and easily threw him into what remained of a wall. Your eyes automatically looked for the knife when he dropped it by accident, but it seemed you weren’t the only one thinking that. Before you could stop him, John lunged out from behind you, attempting to grab the knife, Anna stopped him before the man could even brush his fingers against the cold metal. She retaliated by grabbing a hold of John, and with such little effort, she punched him, making the man fly straight through the window, and into the night. You clenched your fist from what she’d just done. Without even thinking about the consequences, you lunged forward to the angel, trying to tackle her to the ground, yet she was stronger.

Anna threw you to the ground like you were nothing, putting you into the position that you wanted her to be. You found yourself lying for a second or two, trying to compose yourself and figure out another plan of action, but when you looked behind you, it was too late. You cried the man’s name on the top of your lungs in horror. But it was too late. You watched as Anna rammed a piece of wood into the younger man’s stomach, stopping him from saving his own mother. You could feel tears beginning to form in your eye as Sam dropped to the ground from the fatal wound that was about to take his life. The unexpected move had made you frozen in your spot from what had unfolded. He was lying on the ground, no signs of movement as blood began to slowly drip out of his mouth.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He really wasn’t supposed to die. You wanted to grab the knife from the ground and slaughter Anna and Uriel, but you were frozen in your spot, overwhelmed with shock at what had just happened. You dragged your gaze away from the knife to see that Anna was hovering over you. Sam was taken care of, which meant you were next on her list.

“I’m really sorry.” Anna apologized to you once more, as if that was going to make up for this.

“No. No you’re not. After everything you did to try and change yourself, you’re still just like the rest of them.” You looked at her straight in the eye and let out a scoff from what you said next. “You have no free will.”

You could see something in her shift slightly at what you said, thinking you might have been right. She admitted to you when she was an angel without her wings that she didn’t like being a cold, mindless creature which took command without question. All she knew was how to destroy things that were different. But you didn’t care anymore. You turned your head away from her and closed your eyes, admitting your defeat. While you had lost hope at that moment, a voice came out of nowhere, catching all of you by surprise.

“Anna…”

Your eyes blinked open to see who had spoken. It came as a surprise to you when you saw John again up on his feet, as if nothing happened. But the person standing in front you was the mere psychical form that you were graced with. Anna looked at the man with surprise at who it really was. “Michael.”

Michael; the archangel that would soon be in the form of Dean himself. The man wasn’t here to give his fellow sister a warm welcome. He was a bit upset at the trouble Anna was causing from what he did to her next. The angel placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, and with no effort at all, you watched as she slowly started to shake, all before her body was being burned to a crisp from the outside out. Your mouth parted open in surprise as you fumbled back when her body, what ashes and burnt skeleton remained, dropped to the ground near where you had been. Michael only need to give a stare at his fellow brother Uriel to straighten things out, and with the snap of his fingers, the angel turned his attention to Mary, who had no idea what the hell was going on. All she knew was that a stranger was walking around in her husband’s skin.

“W-What did you do to John?” Mary questioned the angel, her voice hardening in anger. Michael reassured her that her husband was in fact fine, but that wasn’t good enough for the woman. “Who—What are you?”

The angel softly hushed the woman as he pressed two fingers against his lips, all before he lured her into a deep sleep for the moment when he simply placed a finger against her temple. He watched as she dropped to the floor with no signs of damages when she began to breathe in and out. You looked away from the woman when you realized she was all right, and to the other body that was hovering over you again. Michael extended out a hand to help you up from the ground. But you ignored his polite gesture and pushed yourself up to your feet. You looked at the angel standing in front of you before turning your attention over to Dean, making sure he was okay. He was a little bruised around the stomach from the way he was limping, but other than that, he was fine. You couldn’t say the same for his little brother.

“Y/N…my, it’s a pleasure to meet my little brother’s creation he’s been working on for millennials now. I have to say, Lucifer has done an impeccable job with you. He got you to look exactly like her.” Michael’s last remark was mumbled underneath his breath for only him to understand. The angel furrowed the brow of the vessel he’d taken and examined you for a second or two longer as he tilted his head to the side, almost as if he wanted to keep a permanent picture in his head. You gave him a look as you took a precautionary step away from the angel, not sure what he was going to do. However, he meant no harm. “It’s been fascinating to meet you, Y/N, but…I’m not here for you.”

A sense of confusion washed over your facial expression from what he said, but before you could ask him, Michael gave you a smile from what he was about to do without you realizing it. With the snap of his fingers once more, you could feel yourself being drifted off into a deep slumber, falling to the ground to join Mary. Michael stepped over your body, seeing it more as an inconvenience, and walked forward to the man that was the most important thing to him right now.

“Well, I say this conversation is long overdue, wouldn’t you?” The angel asked with a casual tone that Dean didn’t seem to like from the look that started to settle on his face. Michael watched as the hunter slowly hobbled into the living room, his attention shifting to you and his mother just lying on the floor without any sign of movement. “Relax. They’re just fine. I need Mary and Y/N alive.”

“Fine. Now fix him.“ Dean demanded without a single ounce of hesitance. He pointed a finger at his brother, who was still lying on the ground with a piece of wood in his stomach.

“First, we talk.” Michael said. The angel set his own rules as he turned his attention to the dead body lying on the ground, the vessel to his own little brother in time. Sam was better off alive than dead, that was a simple fix he could do without breaking a sweat. But he wasn’t here to fix your messes. "Then I fix your darling little Sammy and send you three off.”

“How’d you get in my dad, anyway?” Dean asked.

“I told him I could save his wife, and he said yes.” Michael explained to the man. Dean shook his head from what he was hearing. He made a remark about how being the one and only true vessel to the archangel was a complete lie. But there was some truth to it. “You’re my true vessel. But not my only one. It’s a bloodline. Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It’s in your blood, your father’s blood, your family’s blood.”

“Awesome. Six degrees of Heaven Bacon.” Dean muttered underneath his breath in frustration from what he was hearing. As if he thought things could never get any worse, the man was falling more down the rabbit hole and discovering new traits about himself he never wanted to know about his family. “What do you want with me?”

Michael grew a smile from the question that he heard from Dean. He thought that maybe he had underestimated about how stupid humanity had become. “You really don’t know the answer to that?”

“Well, you know I ain’t gonna say yes, so why are you here?” Dean questioned the archangel with a tone that was becoming harder in anger. “What do you want with me?!”

“I just want you to understand what you and I have to do.” Michael said, putting it into terms that would be simple enough for the hunter to understand.

“Oh, I get it. You got beef with your brother.” Dean said, nodding his head. The angel looked at the man with a growing smile, he was amused at how Dean thought the situation that had been going on long before he was even a spec in God’s plan to solve this problem. It was more than just because of some disagreement. Well, get some therapy, pal. Don’t take it out on my planet!”

“You’re wrong. Lucifer defied our father, and he betrayed me. I could hate him for what he did to me alone, but I can’t. I don’t want this anymore than you would want to kill Sam.” Michael said. He turned his gaze away from the man and shifted slightly around in his spot, standing now so his back was to Dean, and his attention on Sam’s lifeless body. “You know, my brother—I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand…betrayed me no human could never fathom. And I still love him.” Michael shifted his gaze upon you for a moment as a slight frown stretched across his lips. He looked over his shoulder to Dean and continued on speaking. “But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to.”

“Oh, because God says so?” Dean asked with a mocking voice.

“Yes. From the beginning, Lucifer could have saved himself the trouble if he listened to our father and do what he was told. But he didn’t. He retaliated. He created that…abomination.“ Michael said. His facial expression changed, as if the person he was trying to speak about was a bitter taste on his tongue. Dean noticed that the angel didn’t look in your direction, making him wonder if there was someone else he was thinking about. "From the beginning, he knew this was how it was going to end when he stepped out of line.”

“And you’re just gonna do whatever God says.” Dean presumed. The archangel replied with an obvious yes, because that’s what a good son does. He takes care of the other brother when he wouldn’t listen and tried to think for himself. Dean felt a bitter chuckle escape from his mouth at how similar one life was compared to another. It was the same song, just a different people playing out this scenario. “Okay, well, trust me, pal. Take it from someone who knows—this is a dead-end street.”

“And you think you know better than my father?” Michael asked. He took the chance now to look at the man with a smile of his own, amused of how the meat suit thought he had actual feelings and ideas that were going to change fate. “One unimportant little man—what makes you think you get to choose?”

“Because I got to believe that I can choose what I do with my…unimportant little life.” Dean responded back, trying to show the angel that he was stronger than what most would believe. He had the free will that nobody could take away from him.

“You’re wrong. You know how I know?” Michael asked, deciding that it was the right time. Dean looked at the angel with a confused expression, but he was now staring at the back of him when Michael shifted around in his spot again. He looked down on the ground to stare at you for longer than just a few seconds. “Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to have the two of you. Think of all the million random choices you make—and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you think it was a coincidence that John picked a case when you were eighteen that was in Y/N’s exact hometown? Do you think it was a streak of bad luck that Azazel killed Ella when you were there?”

Michael’s questions seemed to have gotten the older Winchester thinking when he turned around again to face him. He wanted to see the hope slowly die in his eyes from what he was about to say next. "I think you understand that Lucifer was banished to Hell because he wouldn’t bow down to mankind. He created Lilith, one of God’s first humans, twisted her soul until she turned into a demon. But what if I were to say…she wasn’t? What if I told you there was someone else before her? And the process was much, much longer. Nobody knew. Not even me.”

“Oh, God.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath. “You’re not gonna tell me a story, are you?”

“Her name was Katerina. She lived long ago, when the only humans living on this earth were the select few my father made. Lilith, Adam and Eve were among them. I looked over them because it was my job. It was what my father wanted. And I listened. Then…I saw her.” Michael said. He fell silent for a moment as his eyes drifted over to you, he furrowed his brow as he continued on with the past that had lead them all here. “You understand what it’s like to be in love, Dean.”

“You dicks can feel something other than your narcissism for yourselves?” Dean cracked a joke, it caused the angel to let out a chuckle from how he was trying to downplay the whole situation.

“This was a much simpler time. Katerina was one of God’s most beautiful humans I’d ever seen, at least, in my eyes. For a brief moment of time I felt like things were going perfect. Humans and angels, two of God’s creations, were in harmony together. But that only lasted for a brief moment. Lucifer started to speak his repulsion for the human kind. He couldn’t understand why our father wanted to bow down to something that was inferior to us. I tried to get him to understand this was how God wanted things to be. But he wouldn’t listen.” Michael said, telling the story of how things came to be of how they were now. “For a short while Lucifer did everything in his power to try and change my mind. He knew that I wouldn’t sink down to his level. So he stayed quiet for a while, making me think he was done with this foolish idea. But he wasn’t.

“Like I said before, Lucifer didn’t start with Lilith, he started with someone else. Someone close and very dear to me.” Michael continued on, giving small hints of who he was referring to. Dean furrowed his brow slightly, all before he realized who he was talking about. “Katerina was always a bright and happy woman. That’s why I was drawn to her. Just the smile on her face made me think that’s why the sun would rise everyday. But I began to notice her personality change bit by bit. She started to become more darker, saying things about God the old her would never say. I didn’t realize Katerina’s soul changed until I saw it in her eyes. And I knew who was to blame.”

Michael’s face hardened at the memory that crossed his mind, and because of that, the bitter feelings resurfaced all over again. “I tried to save my brother, I tried to save Katerina…but it was too late. She ran off with Lucifer when she allowed him to turn her into a demon. All because I wouldn’t follow in my baby brother’s footsteps. He took the one person that I loved besides him and destroyed it.”

Dean kept quiet for a moment or two as he processed the information that was given to him. He should have taken this seriously, as he knew the connection that was supposed to be here, but the man couldn’t help himself but make a joke out of it. “So let me get this straight,” Dean tried to keep a look of composure, but a smirk spread across his lips from what he said next. “All of this started because the Devil messed with your girl?”

“You’re not listening to me, Dean. Why does anything happen the way it does? Out of all the billions of people in this world, my brother chose Andrew and Ella to have the child who would grant his freedom. A demon turned human and a woman who couldn’t bare a child. Do you think that idea just popped into Ella’s head? No. My father knew what Lucifer would do. So he let it be. He let his son break the rules, create Y/N the way she is. Because that’s what his son wants. And that’s what the plan will call for. Everything is playing itself out perfectly.” Michael said, trying to get the man to understand. Dean wouldn’t crack just yet, he wouldn’t let himself see the truth. So, the angel went to something that he knew would do just the trick. “Let me ask you this, Dean. Why do you think you’re in love with Y/N? Is because she makes you feel something good in that little messed up head of yours?”

Dean found his gaze turning to the ground to take notice of the body lying on the ground, his mind was overtaken for a second of how peaceful you looked. That fraction of happiness that started to bloom in his chest was quickly crushed when he looked over at Michael. The son of a bitch had a smug little smile on his face he would love to punch right off his face.

“Fate didn’t bring you and Y/N together for your own happiness. It’s all apart of the plan we have for the three of you. This is about love, betrayal,” Michael looked over his shoulder to stare at you for a moment. He didn’t need to look at you long to realize you were the spitting image of Katerina, just like how Lucifer wanted. He turned his head back to look at Dean, who was trying his hardest to keep his emotions under control. But he was starting to see the doubt creep into his expression. “Seeing the people you love the most succumb to the darkness. Y/N is going to turn into a demon, and she is going to join Lucifer. Just like Katerina did.”

“You’re wrong.” Dean said, shaking his head. “She never would. I won’t let that happen.”

“I tried and failed. You will, too. Y/N will turn into a demon, Sam will say yes to my little brother. And you’re going to be my vessel at the end of it. And do you know why? Because, unlike the silly fairy tales people read to their children, there is no such thing as true love. And free will’s an illusion, Dean.” Michael told the truth in the most simplest of terms that the man could understand. The angel watched as the information began to process slowly, but he knew from the look on his face that Dean wasn’t all that upset about being used as a vessel. It was more of the fact that his only excuse of waking up in the morning was set up for failure. “Oh, buck up. You know, unlike my brothers, I won’t leave you a drooling mess when I’m done wearing you. Maybe I’ll even fix Y/N back up to normal.”

Dean wasn’t happy with the compromise if he said yes to the angel. He swallowed down a threat that would be just wasting his breath at this point. Instead, the man focused his attention on what Michael had said. “Well, what about my dad?”

“Better than new. In fact, I’m gonna do your mom and dad a favor.” Michael said, deciding to do a bit of kindness in return of what the man was going to do for him in the future. Dean hesitantly asked him what the deed was. “Scrub their minds. They won’t remember me or you.”

“You can’t do that.” Dean mumbled in protest.

“I’m just giving your mother what she wants.” Michael said. “She can go back to her husband, her family—”

“She’s gonna walk right into that nursery!” Dean cut off the angel, pointing out a very important fact that might have slipped his mind. Again, his warning had failed him. No matter how many times he tried to meddle with the past, the future would always remain the same.

“Obviously. And you always knew that was going to play out one way or another. Try all you want, Dean. But you can’t fight city hall.” Michael said, wondering when the man was going to learn that he was dealing with something that was too big for him to handle. He let the Winchester sit in the filth of his own doubt and sadness, the angel walked over to Sam and you. He bent down to your level, and with the simple touch of his fingers, the both of you disappeared. “They’re home. Sam’s good as new. Y/N’s safe and sound. Your turn.” Michael walked over to his vessel, a simple little toy he was going to play with. The angel fixed the man’s jacket, making sure it was just right on him, and the final, little subtle warning of how he was nothing more than a prop in this game. “I’ll see you soon, Dean.”

\+ + +

How the hell did your life get to this point? A little over five years ago you were just some person in their twenties, passing the time of your loneliness by throwing yourself into the endless amount of research for the Winchesters when they were still a family all about hunting. While they had the endless road at their fingertips, you had a two-story house to call your own. It was filled with a set of problems that you tried to get over, but you ended up ditching it when John went missing and Dean wanted to try and contact his little brother. When the youngest Winchester called off hunting for a chance at a normal life after seeing enough hunting to make him see what it was all about. You had done the opposite. You decided a normal life wasn’t worth it. You wanted to do more than just sit at home and learn about the monsters of the night, you wanted to hunt them. Looking up from the little mundane task you were doing, you glanced up to the mirror that you were standing in front of to stare at yourself for a moment.  
You could play the game of “What If” until your thoughts collapsed of all the mistakes that lead you to the apocalypse. You could blame yourself for doing what you thought was right at the time. But you had a feeling, no matter what you did, somehow you would find yourself in this position sooner or later. Letting out a quiet sigh, you glanced back down at the glass cups you were about to grab, but the sound of ruffling wings made you glance up from your task just one more time, curious to see if your mind was playing tricks on you. Cas had been missing for the past few days since you came back to the present. You tried calling, texting, and even tracking his phone to see if he just landed himself somewhere else in the world. But your eyes suddenly grew wide as you dropped the cups to the dresser, seeing his reflection once more in the mirror.

“Cas!” You called out his name in a panic as you quickly turned around in your spot to face him. It only took a quick look over to see the angel wasn’t feeling his best. He appeared to be dizzy and out of his own psyche, but he managed to stand on his own two feet for a little while longer until the boys realized your friend was back. You let out a sigh of relief when the brothers grabbed Cas by his arms and helped him stay balanced for a little while longer. A smile spread across your lips at seeing him once more. “You son of a bitch. You made it.”

“I…I did?” Cas seemed surprised himself at what he was capable of doing after being so weak after bringing the four of you to the past. It nearly killed him. But it seemed spending four days in the motel had been enough to gather enough strength to send him back. He lifted up his hands to see that he was in one piece, and with an inspection that everything seemed to have been working just fine, Cas looked up to stare at you. You gave him a concerned look when you noticed he was worn down with a layer of sweat covering his face, not to mention the blood that was starting to trickle down his nose. “I’m very surprised.”

Cas remained conscious only a few moments after speaking before he passed right out once more. The boys worked together in getting the angel to the bed so he could continue on resting. You followed over when Cas was dropped to the bed and left there on his back. Out of caution, you placed your hand in front of his nostrils to check to see if he was still breathing, you could feel small breaths of hot air tickle your skin. You nodded your head and looked at the boys, confirming your little angel was still alive.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I could use that drink now.” Dean suggested an idea that you wouldn’t deny having after the events that you had been through over the past few days. You got the drinks and handed one to each of the boys as Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey he bought this morning for all of you to enjoy. He twisted off the top and poured each of you a drink, deciding to make a little toast for the hell of it. “This is it.”

You furrowed your brow in slight confusion, “This is what?”

“Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie,” Dean nodded his head to his little brother before he slipped his empty hand into the pocket of his jeans. He decided to give the four people of whom were going to try and stop the apocalypse from happening a catching name. “One dropout with six bucks to his name, Mr. Comatose over there and Rosemary’s baby all grown up. It’s awesome.”

“It’s not funny.” You said with a frown stretching across your lips at the name he’d given you. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he took a sip of his drunk.

“I’m not laughing, Y/N.” Dean told you. “Trust me.”

You tighten your grip around the drink you hadn’t touched yet as the brothers took a second sink of the whiskey, wanting something to help keep the silence going for a few seconds longer. Nobody knew what the future was going to hold for the three of you, or if there was a chance you could even win this fight without destroying yourselves in the process. You looked straight ahead at Cas, who was still lying on the bed, almost appearing as if he were dead. Sam let out a deep breath and decided to address the elephant in the room.

“They all say we’ll say yes.” Sam said, repeating the same line you’ve been hearing from angels and demons. If they had one thing in common, it was they wanted to see the end of the world crumble. A battle that’s been brewing since the beginning of humanity, and you three little humans were trying to stop it with an angel that didn’t have wings with a paraplegic back in South Dakota.

“I know.” Dean said, acknowledging the fact. “It’s getting annoying.”

“What if they’re right?” Sam asked. You scoffed as his question and told him you wouldn’t let that happen as you brought the cup to your lips to take a drink. “I mean, w-why would we, either of us? But…I’ve been weak before. Michael got Dad to say yes.”

“That was different.” You said. “Anna was about to kill Mary.”

“And if you could save your parents, what would you say, Y/N?” Sam asked you.

“Both of you are not going to say yes. I’ll make sure of that. There’s no demon chirping in your ear to tell you what to do, Sammy.” You said, with a matter-of-fact tone as you changed the subject. You looked away from the boys as you stared at spot on the carpet. It suddenly felt like a heavy boulder was on your shoulders when you started to think about what you were dealing with. You brought the cup to your lips to take another sip, all before mumbling, “I would tell my own mother to go screw herself.”

It was true that Ruby wasn’t here anymore to help push Sam along the path to self destruction, but you weren’t any better. You could feel your breathing becoming a bit heavier as you thought about the realization that you might become just like her. While the boys had to worry about not letting a simple word slip off the tongue, granting access to two archangels who wanted to see one another dead, you were fighting an internal battle brought on by a woman who just wanted to have a child. Who just wanted a normal life. She had a moment of weakness, just like Mary, after suffering a loss, and sold someone very dear to her to Azazel. Neither of them realized it would bring all of you one step closer to the end of the world. If they knew, would they change?

\+ + +

January, 1979:

“Where’d you even get it?”

Mary Winchester stood in the almost completed nursery with her husband, John, and stood next to the completed crip that would soon be the home of a healthy baby boy in just the matter of a few weeks. She stared at the ceramic figurine that her husband had pointed out after she arrived back this afternoon after spending the day out doing some last minute shopping for the baby

“Garage sale. Twenty-five cents. Ella pointed it out to me.” Mary said. She rubbed her stomach and looked at the angelic face with a bit of a smile, her husband, however was thankful she didn’t spend too much money on it. She let out a chuckle and gave the man a playful look. “Hey.”

“I mean,” John tilted his head to the side and tried to squeeze his honest opinion about what he thought about the angel figure that would be over his child’s crib. He wasn’t a true man of faith, but he thought it might have been a bit overboard. “You really don’t think it’s just a little cheesy?”

“Mnh-mnh. I think it’s sweet.” Mary said. She took a step closer to the crib as she continued on staring at the figure. John reached up and rested his arm around his wife’s shoulder, his fingers dangling close to his unborn child. He embraced her closer and gave a soft kiss to her shoulder as she rested her head against his. “Can’t even put my finger on why I like it. I just…like it.”

“Well, then, I love it.” John agreed, only wanting to see his wife happy.

Mary turned her head to her husband when he leaned over to give her a kiss on the lips, both of them sharing a sweet moment together, knowing it wasn’t going to be just the two of them for much longer. With the new baby arriving soon. She gave him a smile before watching him walk away, knowing there was still the both of them needed to do before their child, Dean, would be brought into this world. Mary wanted her first born to be named after someone that was special to her, and that was her mother, Deanna. She was occupied by her own thoughts, but her child was quick to demand her attention when he kicked her stomach, causing Mary to let out a breath from the unexpected pressure she wasn’t expecting just yet this morning.

“Quite a kick there. Troublemaker already.” She cooed as she rubbed her stomach and walked around the room to the window that overlooked the front yard. It’d been a few months since her and John had bought another house in Lawrence, a much bigger house that was in a quiet and safe neighborhood which seemed perfect for the growing family. A smile stretched across her lips when she spotted the moving truck in the driveway of the house directly across the street. Ella and Andrew had been following in their friends’ footsteps. Not only was Mary pregnant, but it seemed that Ella was stricken with a bit of good luck, she found out she was carrying a healthy baby girl just a few days ago. The idea of her child and Ella’s growing up together made a smile spread across her lips in joy. For some reason, she had a feeling they were going to be close. Dean kicked her stomach once more when she turned away from the window. She rubbed her bump and looked over at the small angelic figurine once more. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all okay. Angels are watching over you.”

\+ + +

1981:

The clock across the nightstand had turned to two in the morning, and Ella couldn’t get herself to fall asleep. She slipped out of the creaky motel bed, her heart growing heavy with nervousness as she dropped to her knees. Her husband, who was drunk off the cheap beer that he had been drinking just a few hours ago, remained undisturbed. Ella had felt sober since she had retired to bed just a few hours ago. Her thoughts wouldn’t go away, no how much she drank, the persistent motivation kept her nerves restless. She was a little bit excited. But, God, was she scared. She placed her elbows on the mattress and intertwined her fingers before resting her head on her knuckles and closed her eyes, making her vision go black for a moment. This was her last chance. She pressed her eyelids tighter and tried to get anyone to listen. After eight years and six funerals, she needed a miracle. Exhaling a quiet breath, she got herself to focus as she started a prayer.

“Dear Lord, thank you for blessing me with everything that you’ve given me and the people around me happiness. Thank you for my wonderful husband and the friends that you have given me. My life has been so peaceful since I’ve moved to Kansas. It’s perfect. But…all I ask is for something small, that’s all.” Ella whispered to herself, but in her head, she was speaking to the Heavens, hoping He was listening to her finally. She inhaled a deep breath before continuing her prayer, deciding to start off to appear just as a humble woman. “My best friend, Mary Winchester, she has a little boy name Dean. I talked about him before. He’s turning two next week. He’s a cute little thing…I might have spoiled him a bit too much with the presents that I got him. And I know Mary is going to kill me after she sees what I got him.”

Ella felt a smile spread across her lips at the thought of little Dean, with his bright green eyes, and how much he looked like his mother. She felt herself straying from her prayer, so she quietly cleared her throat, getting herself to focus again. “Please send someone to look over him and his parents. Mary and John are the only family we have. Please keep the Winchesters safe. And my husband, too.”

She lifted her head up slightly and cracked open an eye to stare at Andrew. He was still passed out, quietly snoring, having no clue of what her past time had become as she returned back to her position. "Lord, I pray for your help to deliver me from infertility. Andrew and I have been trying for almost seven years now. The doctors say that I can’t carry a baby full term. But sometimes I read about how women like me that have healthy babies. And I was wondering if you might grant me a child of my own. Please, Father.” Ella whispered as she clutched her fingers tighter. She’d been in this position before, down on her knees, asking for a miracle from anyone that would listen. “I know Andrew doesn’t care that I can’t have children. He’s been talking about adopting. Perhaps I could take care of another woman’s child when she couldn’t…but, forgive me Father for what I am about to say. But it’s not the same. I want a baby. I  
one. I’ve lost six babies. Isn’t that enough to show You how much I want to be a mother? Perhaps, this is what You wanted for me.” 

Ella could feel hot tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks, rolling down her skin, but hitting the crumpled bedspread. She inhaled a deep breath, knowing her mindset was drifting to envy for the things she didn’t have. And that was a sin. “My mother used to say everything happens for a reason. She told me that perhaps I that, because I couldn’t have kids, hunting was meant for me. And I did love it. But that’s not for me anymore. I know that. You sent me Andrew, and if I was meant to have a family, then You would have given me a child by now. But, forgive me God, I can’t do anymore. I need a family. And my method of going about it is very…unorthodox. I’m scared I might be tempted into doing it. Please stop me. Send me a sign that you’re listening to me. Give me a sign that you will give me a child. Give me a sign that you will stop me from doing this.”

She didn’t know what she was expecting. A burst of light? An angelic voice to tell her that her prayers have been answered? Ella peered her up and opened her eyes to the dark motel room. It was dead silent, nothing but the sound of hear breathing and Andrew’s snores. She dropped her hands to the bed and let out a quiet sigh. Ella had spent seven years on her knees praying to God. If he wouldn’t grant her what she wanted, then someone else would. Perhaps the alcohol was affecting her head that night when she grabbed that tin canister filled with graveyard dirt, a black cat bone, her old permit she found while cleaning out the house and a yarrow flower. Clutching it tightly, she left her sleeping husband alone, and off to the crossroads she spotted just a few miles back.

If God wouldn’t give her the miracle she’d been so patient for, then she was done with Him. She decided to look for a friend in His son, the Devil himself.


	14. My Bloody Valentine.

Valentine’s Day; the holiday you hated most of all. Boyfriends stressed over what to get their significant others while girlfriends pretended to be happy with the store bought flowers and some stuffed animal with “I love you” written on some oversize heart. You always spent it locked away in your motel room with a box of your favorite candy and some rom com you found on cable while channel surfing. There had been some years where you were gloomy at the idea of being single. Back in the day Dean was always giddy about it. Single women crying into their drinks at the bar, begging for some guy to take them home to feel just a little bit loved. Sam usually stuck around with you to share the grief of being permanently single. But there had been a few years where he decided to go to the bars and see for himself. All of you would admit you’ve done things in the past to show that you were interested in someone cute. Not to mention, the crazy things you’ve done for one another. But you might have found someone that topped your behavior.

“If you’d only be my valentine.” You read off the saying from a cute little romantic card with a fat baby Cupid on the front. Someone went out of their way to stick it on the fridge with a magnet to complete the festive theme. What was causing you to look at the seemingly innocent card with a bit of a perplexed expression was the smudges of blood on the edges of the paper. You felt sick to your stomach at the reason why you and Sam were here at the victim’s house. A few days before the holiday of love you had read about a couple who went on a seemingly innocent date. Only it ended with the both of them literally eating each other to death until they just stopped. You shuddered at the thought of having all those old women pinching your cheek and saying how cute you were. And how they could just eat you right up…

“So,” You stepped away from the card and faced the victim’s friend, who had been kind enough to let you into the apartment. She was packing up a few of her friend’s belongings into boxes and telling you what she knew about everything that went down. But from the disturbed look on her face, even she didn’t know what happened. “You were the one who found the bodies?”

“There was blood everywhere, and…other stuff.” Alice’s roommate recalled the tragic event as she walked over to the fireplace, taking down a few photographs of the two of them and walking over to the box she had on the coffee table. “I think Alice was already dead.”

“And Russell wasn’t?” Sam presumed, wondering what the woman meant by that.

“I think he was, mostly, except…he was still sort of…chewing a little.” She admitted ever so slowly, as just trying to tell the memory with words was painfully disturbing for her. Your nose crinkled as you pressed a hand against your stomach, Sam nodded his head, trying his hardest not to react in any sort of manner. Both of you gave one another a shuddering look when the roommate wasn’t looking after spotting the floor in the kitchen. Despite being cleaned with bleach several times, the bloodstains remained clear as ever, showing the last romantic events Alice and Russell would ever have. “How do two people even do that—eat each other to death?”

“That’s a good question.” Sam thought out loud to himself. The reason why the three of you were drawn to the case was because it seemed like it was right up your alley in the weird department, but you were starting to see things weren’t going to be easy as you’d thought of pinning down a reason for this cannibalistic behavior. “Now, the last few days, did you notice her acting erratically? Did she seem unusually hostile, aggressive?”

“No way.” She chuckled at the accusation, knowing her roommate was never capable of that sort of behavior. “Alice never drank, never even swore. She was a nice girl. And I’m talking, like, a nice girl—like she still had her promise ring, if you know what I mean.”

You raised your brow in a bit of surprise at what the woman was subtly hinting around, “You mean she was still a virgin?”

“No premarital. I used to wonder how she did it. I mean, you know, didn’t do it.” She found herself correcting what she was trying to say about her roommate. She continued on packing for a few more moments until she spotted something that made her stop once more. You watched as she picked up a stuffed bunny from the table and pressed it close to her chest. She lightly brushed at its floppy ears as a small smile began to spread across her lips from the happy memory of her roommate, the last she would ever have. “It was her first date in months. She was so excited.”

“Apparently, they were both pretty excited.” You muttered underneath your breath.

\+ + +

You and Sam headed back to the motel after spending a little over an hour sweeping the apartment for anything which could detect the reasoning behind why two seemingly normal people who want to eat themselves to death. Unless the both of them were Hannibal Lecter meets Romeo and Juliet, you didn’t understand how someone could let another human being sink their teeth into their flesh and rip out…you quickly shook your head away from the brutal imagery. It felt like something straight out of a Stephen King novel. But it seemed Sam didn’t lose his appetite when he complained about being hungry and wanted to get something on the way home. He was going to have a long night of research anyway. Unlike previous years, you weren’t bitterly single, and there was no some old grudge keeping you and Dean away from having a fun night out like the year before.

Dean was sitting at the table with his feet kicked up on the table reading one of the case files he must’ve grabbed from the coroner after spending the afternoon at the hospital. He glanced away from the report to see you come in first to the motel room, Sam following behind. “How’d it go?” He asked, you scoffed and kicked off your heels to let your feet breathe.

“No EMF, no sulfur.” You told him your findings as you headed for the table. You pushed off his legs so he was now sitting normally as Sam headed over to his bed so he could take off his jacket. “Ghost possession and demonic possession are both probably out.”

“Hmm. That’s where I was puttin’ my money.” Dean mumbled, seeming a little disappointed at the lack of answers which could easily explain why a couple devoured each other. He rubbed his eyes from the amount of reading that he hadn’t been used to. And the lack of answers meant a longer hunter to figure out what the hell was going on here. “Well, then what? Oh, dude! At the coroner’s—you didn’t see these bodies. I mean, these two started eating and they just…kept going. I mean, their stomachs were full. LIke—Like, thanksgiving dinner full. Talk about co-dependent.”

“Well, I mean, we got our feelers out. Not much more we can do tonight.” Sam said. He walked over to the empty seat that was right across from his brother and took it as his own. The younger Winchester didn’t waste anymore time in grabbing the laptop from his brother and diving deep into the research that was awaiting him. “I’m just gonna go through some files. You and Y/N can go ahead and get going.”

Dean looked a little bit confused at what his brother mentioned, “Sorry?”

“Go ahead. Unleash the kraken. I really don’t care, just keep it down.” Sam mumbled as he pulled up what documents he would need before retiring to bed. "See you two tomorrow morning.”

“Where are Y/N and I supposed to be going?” Dean asked, not catching on to the subtle point you had made during the ride back to the motel to his little brother.

“Are you drunk off one beer? It’s Valentine’s Day, Dean. Your favorite holiday, remember? I mean, what do you always call it—uh, unattached drifter Christmas?“ You tried to remember the stupid name that he’d given it, as it only made your hatred for the holiday grow even stronger. But this year was different, at least, you thought it would be when you came back to the motel, feeling a bit positive you might have a good one this year. "I thought you and I could go out.”

"Really? It is? Oh. I must’ve forgot.” Dean mumbled, not sounding like himself today. You furrowed your brow when he got up from his seat to exchange his empty beer bottle with another one from the cooler. He twisted off the top and threw it over his shoulder, landing it perfectly into the sink as he leaned himself against the counter. “I don’t know. Guess I’m not feeling it this year.”

“So you’re not into the idea of drinking much as you want and seeing me in some cute lingerie I bought a few days ago for this glorious holiday?” You asked, just baiting him to see what he would do next. Normally he would jump on the idea of booze and spending a night with you any other time of the year. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders, all before saying how he wasn’t in the mood for it. “Dean, come on! This is my first holiday not being single. Let’s have some fun.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Dean apologized, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I’m not in the mood.”

You let out a breath and looked away from him, feeling a bit disappointed at how glum Dean was acting today. You didn’t tell him, but you had an entire night planned out at this cute little restaurant you spotted and made a list of all the best kind of bars he would enjoy. And you did buy a new outfit for him. Along with a present that you’d been spending almost two weeks trying to do with the help of Josh. Sam seemed worried himself at the kind of behavior that seemed the polar opposite of what he would expect from his big brother.

“It’s when a dog doesn’t eat—that’s when you know something’s really wrong.” Sam said with a concerning voice, but it was the sarcasm undertone that made you crack the slightest smile.

“Remarkably patronizing concerned duly noted. Nothing’s wrong. I just think we should work on the case. That’s all.” Dean said, wanting to get that point clear before you or his brother could try and pull some joke again. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him an annoyed look, obviously pissed off with his decision. He walked back to the table and leaned down so he could give you a quick kiss on the forehead before sitting himself back down. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can we do it some other time?”

Dean presumed you were going to be with okay with the change of plans, as neither one of you had made any for the holiday in the weeks before. He got himself comfortable in his seat once more and reached out with his free hand to grab the case file he’d neglected to grab another beer. But before his fingers could gaze it, you snatched it right up. He gave you a confused look and asked what you did that for. You ignored him. You got up from your seat and walked over to your shoes that you’d abandoned and slipped them back on. Walking to the motel door, you opened it up, before roughly slamming it behind you. Sam winced at the sound, obviously he could tell that you were pissed off, but his brother remained oblivious to the entire situation.

“What’s up with her?” Dean asked his brother, wondering if he might have missed something here that would explain your sudden silent treatment. Sam didn’t say anything, he only responded with a scoff before turning his attention back to his own date tonight, and that was research. Dean rolled his eyes in frustration and brang the beer bottle back to his lips. “Chicks, man.”

\+ + +

You spent the rest of the afternoon in your own motel room, getting ready for the routine of sulking into a box of candies you’d bought for yourself and order that free champagne you saw being advertised. It seemed things were looking up in your favor when you noticed one of your favorite movies was about to begin playing. You began to get yourself comfortable in bed and trying to get the willpower to get out of the formal clothing you had worn earlier and into some pajamas. Before you did, there was a knock on the door, all though it wasn’t your booze, but the boys. It seemed there was a couple having a much worse Valentine’s day than you tonight.

Much as you would have rathered to stay home and wallow in self pity, you decided that it would be better if you and the boys headed down to the hospital and see what was going on. You heard from the recap that Sam had given you on the way to the car you were looking at three victims had been fatally shot this time—a murder and double suicide. It seemed from the statement the janitor who’d been working tonight had said it was love gone wrong. One of the victim’s girlfriend’s had shown up, looking distraught and angry at being stood up on the most romantic holiday of the year. Nothing would calm her down, not even the voice of reason, the guy’s coworker, who ended up being the third victim found titled over in the office chair with a gunshot wound to the chest. The girlfriend shot herself before her boyfriend did the same, splattering their brains on the ceiling. Whatever was happening to these people, it seemed they were so much in love, they would go far as killing whatever it was that got in their way before doing it to themselves.

Sam walked down the hallway with his brother as you trailed behind, keeping quiet as you looked at the numbers on each of the doors that you passed, making sure you got the right one. His eyes were focused like always, but when he noticed someone coming down the hall from the corner of his eye, Sam looked out of curiosity. The guy coming down the hall was wearing a black suit and holding a briefcase, and while he could have been any other stranger, Sam found himself looking back when he caught a whiff of something he hadn’t come across in a long, long time. He followed the smell, accidentally stopping in his tracks for a second to watch as the stranger continued on down the hallway, not even realizing what he’d done until you accidentally crashed right into him.

“Sam, watch it!” You hissed at the younger man, somehow managing to balance yourself before you could go tumbling to the ground. You took a moment to press down on your clothes and adjust yourself. When you glanced up, Sam was staring down the hallway, suddenly appearing tense, like he’d seen something that riled him up in all the wrong ways. “You okay?”

Sam sniffed the air once more, wondering if the smell had come from the man, or if this was just a figment of his imagination. He leaned forward slightly to where you were standing, and did it again, but this time it was different, almost better. You furrowed your brow in concern at his strange behavior, wondering what had gotten into him. Sam did, too. He pulled at the collar of his dress shirt and mumbled that he was fine, all before continuing down the way to the morgue with you and his brother. You brushed off the incident as nothing when you headed inside for the two other bodies that were waiting for you.

“Agent Marley.” Dr. Corman greeted the oldest Winchester when he saw the man coming into the the swinging door. He was an older, quite round looking man with a friendly smile when he noticed two strange faces tagging along. “You just can’t stay away.”

“Heard you tagged another double suicide.” Dean said, giving the reason why he was here again.

“Well, I just finished closing them up.” Dr. Corman said, nodding his head to the two dead bodies lying on the metal slab, now covered up with a thin sheet.

“Dr. Corman, these are my partners. Special Agent Cliff.” Dean introduced his little brother first as both men shook hands. You gave the doctor a friendly smile as you reached out an arm to shake hands with the man yourself. “And Special Agent Monroe.”

“I’ve finished my prelims.” Dr. Corman said. He walked over to the coat rack that was just by the door. It seemed the doctor didn’t waste a second in shedding off his lab coat and called it quits. “I pulled the organ sets and sent off the tox samples.”

“Great. You mind if we take a look at the bodies?” You asked, pointing a finger over your shoulder at the victims still lying not too far from where you stood.

“Not at all. But like I said—their good-and-plenties are already tupperwared.” Dr. Coleman opened up the freezer door to show off all the victims organs were, in fact, properly labeled and sealed away. The doctor tossed the keys to Dean and grabbed his jacket, all before giving the three of you a set of easy instructions to follow. “Leave the keys with Marty up front. And please, lady and gentlemen, refrigerate- after opening.”

You reassured him, letting the man go off to enjoy his night that was still young. The boys worked in gathering all of the organs out as you slipped off your jacket and rolled up your sleeves. You put on some hideous blue plastic apron and snapped on some gloves before diving straight into a table full of human organs. Your nose crinkled as you reached for anything that you could, pulling it forward. As you snapped off the top to what appeared to be the lungs, you let out a sigh, mumbling something about this was exactly how you wanted to spend your Valentine’s day. There was no denying you were still pissed off at Dean for his behavior, instead of being cold, you were becoming more passive aggressive to get your point across.

“Hey.” Dean noticed that you were still upset. But instead of apologizing for breaking the special night you had planned out, he decided to be a bit cheeky. He slid over the container that held the heart of the female victim. You glanced up to see it was mere inches from where you sat. You grimaced and looked up at Dean, wondering why he did that. “Be my valentine?”

You mocked his smile before you were rolling your eyes in annoyance, shoving the heart out of the way, ignoring it all together as a possible clue to help figure out what was going on here. Sam glanced up from what he was looking at to see that the both of you were still acting the same, but his attention lingered to the human heart. He leaned forward slightly, taking notice of a strange mark that seemed out of place. Sam didn’t waste a second in finding the other victim’s heart and took off the top. Pushing them together, the man noticed there was a pattern here.

“These hearts both have identical marks. Check this out.” Sam reached for the magnifier lamp and pulled it forward so he could take a closer look. You got out from your seat and hovered over his shoulder to see there was something out of place. He mentioned that it looked like a letter, perhaps an E that was sideways, but the man seemed to have a clue when he pushed away the light. You gave him a look, wondering what was the reaction. "I think it’s Enochian.”

“You mean like angel scratches?” Dean presumed. 

 

“No, he means chicken scratch” You remarked with a sarcasm bite when you looked over at the man sitting at the other end of the small table. He gave you a confused look from the attitude you were still dragging along. You rolled your eyes before returning your attention back to his little brother, hopeful he might have some useful answers. “You think it could be like the engraving on our ribs?”

“Y/N, I don’t know.” Sam admitted, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Alrighty. We’ve got Curly and Moe. All we’re missing is Larry.” You muttered underneath your breath. Snapping off your gloves, you reached a hand inside your skirt pocket to pull out your phone and call your favorite angel. You began walking around the table when the other end began to ring, but it only lasted once before you heard the familiar gravel tone after he answer. “Cas, it’s Y/N. Yeah. Room 31-C. Basement level…St. James Medical Center.”

“I’m there now.”

You didn’t realize your voice was echoing until you spotted a pair of blue eyes staring back at you. Before you could make the same mistake you did with Sam, you stopped dead in your tracks to see Cas was in fact here. “Yeah.” You said into the phone, despite having the person you were talking to was standing right in front of you. You gave him a look. “I get that.”

“I’m gonna hang up now.” Cas said, seeming to know what to do in this awkward encounter. You gave him a smile as you pressed your finger on the end button, stopping the echo coming from the phones so you could tell the angel what Sam had found on the hearts. Cas walked over to the table and picked up the human heart bare handed, He only needed to examine it for a few moments before he recognized the familiar writing. “You’re right, Sam. These are angelic marks. I imagine you’ll find similar marks on the other couples’ hearts as well.”

“So, what are they?” You asked. “I mean, what do they mean?”

“It’s a mark of union. This man and women were intended to mate.” Cas explained, you furrowed your brow to who could be doing the match making. “Your people call them ‘Cupid.’ What human myth has mistaken for 'Cupid’ is actually a lower order of angel. Technically it’s a cherub, third-class. They’re all over the world. There are dozens of them.”

“You mean the little flying fat kid in diapers?” Dean presumed, thinking the Hallmark holiday baby was what you were going to be up against. You let out a quiet chuckle from the imagery.

“They’re not incontinent.” Cas said. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you tried to figure out what the angel was trying to say, but he cut you off, giving you exactly what all of you were up against. “What I’m saying is a cupid has gone rogue. And we have to stop him—before he kills again.”

“…Naturally.”

“Of course we do.”

\+ + +

“My luck is just going great tonight.“ You mumbled underneath your breath as you looked around at the restaurant, as your reservations didn’t go to a complete waste. You gave the waitress who have served your meals and drinks a smile before she disappeared, tending to her other couples on this very busy night. You grabbed your fork from the side of your plate and violently stabbed at your food. “The restaurant that I pick happens to be the hunting ground for a rogue Cupid.”

“This place is a nexus of human reproduction. It’s exactly the kind of—” Cas started speaking, you looked around at the place and chewed your food. The angel stopped himself for a second when he noticed Dean had ordered a burger and squeeze some ketchup on the bun to complete the meal. Cas looked away from the food and went back to explaining why an angel of love would choose this. ”…Of garden the cupid will come to—to pollinate.“

“Mhmm. Well, I wasn’t planning on making a baby tonight. Or ever, for that matter.” You said, the words slipping out of your mouth before you realized it. You furrowed your brow from the hostile behavior that seemed to had consumed you for a second from the thought. Looking over at the man sitting across from you, Dean got ready to take a bite his burger, but it seemed that he wasn’t in the mood to eat his second favorite food in the whole world. “Wait. You’re not hungry?”

“No.” Dean said. You looked over at his little brother, the both of you giving each other a curious look to what had gotten into the man. First he declined a night out, and now he wasn’t eating. The man instantly got annoyed from the looks that were being put on him. “What? I’m not hungry.”

“Then you’re not going to finish that?” Cas presumed. As if you thought things couldn’t get any weirder, the angel, who you had seen never take a bite of food, reach out and grab the plate away from Dean. He eagerly grabbed the burger from the plate and got ready to take a bite. But before he could sink his teeth into the bun, the angel stopped, almost as if he’d come to his senses, only he spotted something that caught him from eating. “He’s here.”

You began looking around the restaurant, trying to figure out what Cas was looking at, but nothing stood out of the ordinary to you. You asked what the hell you were supposed to be finding, Cas pointed you in the direction of a couple that was sharing the same booth seat, and in just a blink of an eye, were suddenly heavily into some PDA with no signs of remorse. “Meet me in the back.” Was the only directions the angel gave you before he disappeared from sight.

You and the boys exchanged a confused look at where Cas could have gone. The three of you got up from your seats and found your way to the back alley of the restaurant where there was nobody around, except for Cas. The angel stood with his back turned to you and his arm stretched out in front of him, seeming to have Cupid tethered to an invisible rope. With a few words in what you were presuming Enochian, Cas gave the command for his fellow brother to show himself. You looked around, wondering what you were supposed to be looking for, as it was just the same scene when a few seconds passed by.

“So, where is he?” You asked, getting ready to turn around in your spot.But before you could move a single inch, you suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around your body, squeezing you into a tight hold, and with ease, lifted you a few inches up from the ground. You fought your hardest to get out of this, but it seemed you found your cupid from the cheery voice that came from behind.

“Here I am!”

\+ + +

You didn’t know what was happening; the last thing you remembered was looking for Cupid after Cas said he’d gotten him restrained, then all of a sudden, you were being lifted from behind and someone started giggling in your ear. You tried your hardest to fight off your attacker and get away from them far as possible. But it seemed he wanted to squeeze you one more time for some kind of added effect before dropping you back to your feet. You quickly stumbled away from to see who this Cupid was. He was an awfully jolly man from the grin on his face. Yet he wasn’t dressed in a diaper or carrying a bow and arrow with heart shaped tips. He wasn’t, well…your eyes widened at the discovery before quickly looking away. Your mother taught you that it was awfully rude to stare at people. And you sure didn’t want to stare at a naked man with his bare ass hanging out.

“Hello you!” Cupid greeted his fellow brother with open arms as he walked passed Dean, saving the man from a very awkward greeting he wouldn’t take lightly. The man quietly hid behind you as he tried his hardest to avoid the naked man running around the cold night like nothing was wrong. Poor Cas let out a noise that sounded like a grunt of pain when his brother squeezed him tightly as he did to you. You raised your brows at your angel friend, asking the important question if this was the Cupid you were looking for, Cas managed to give you a strained yes. Cupid dropped his brother back down to the ground, wondering who he might have missed. Another smile spread across his lips when he noticed Sam standing far away as possible. “And look at you, huh? You’re like a moose! Come here, you!”

Sam tried his hardest to be polite to the angel as he started to slowly back away, hopeful that a smile would work as he mumbled no, his protests failed when he felt himself being thrown into a front side hug. You shuddered from what you had to endure and looked over at Cas, wondering exactly what the hell was going on here as Cupid continued on sharing a hug with the younger Winchester which should have ended way before it started. The more Sam struggled, the more Cupid only pulled him into a tighter embrace.

“Is this a fight?“ Dean quietly asked the angel. "Are we in a fight?”

“This is…their handshake.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Nobody likes it, Y/N.”

Cupid gave the younger Winchester one more tight squeeze before he felt content enough that all of you felt the love this joyous holiday. He patted the man on the back and stepped away, leaving Sam feel very awkward, a little bit violated. When Cupid stepped forward so he was now facing the three of you, you gotten a sight that you should have been expecting to see, only it made your eyes widen in horror. But before an image could be permanently burned in the back of your brain, Dean quickly shielded your eyes with his hand to spare you from anymore of the horror. The angel let out a deep sigh and placed his hands on his hips, the only thing he was wearing was toothy grin for the four of you.

“What can I do for you?” Cupid curiously asked.

“Why are you doing this?” Cas questioned his brother, making the other angel look a bit perplexed at the accusation he wasn’t aware of. He asked what he brother meant as his nose crinkled when he smiled even more. You quickly ripped Dean’s hand away from your face when this was starting to grow uncomfortable, more than the naked man standing right in front of you. “Your targets—the ones you marked—they’re slaughtering each other.”

Cupid fell silent from hearing the information he wasn’t expecting to turn out. All of the centuries he had been stationed on Earth, nothing had gone wrong. His brow worried in confusion at what was going on. “What? They are?”

“Listen, birthday suit, we know, okay?” Dean told the angel, not falling for the puppy dog look. “We know you been flittin’ around, popping people with your poison arrow, making them murder each other!”

“What we don’t know is why.” Cas said.

“You think that I—” Cupid looked at the three of you with a hurt expression, wondering what he did to have caused such a terrible first impression. You furrowed your brow when he started to look like he was about to cry. His index finger pressed against his lips as his eyes crinkled slightly, like he was about to cry. You let out a sigh from the over dramatics as his voice cracked for some kind of added effect. “I don’t know what to say.”

You pushed yourself out of the way so the naked Cupid could go run into the corner of the room and sulk at the accusation he seemed to have been innocent from his reaction. You didn’t know to start laughing or comforting the naked and quietly sobbing man. “This…This is what my life has come to.” You muttered underneath your breath as you gestured to the three idiots standing around you, unsure of what was happening themselves. Sam seemed a bit concerned himself when Cupid let out another sob, you looked over your shoulder, feeling kind of bad for him. But no way were you going over there and trapping yourself into another hug. Never again. “Cas, he’s your brother. Go talk to him. Give him…some love or whatever Cupids like. Just stop making him cry. He’s making me feel bad.”

“Yeah. Y/N’s right.” Dean agreed with you, nodding his head. “Give ‘em hell, Cas.”

Cas looked like a deer in headlights from what you were pushing into. He didn’t understand human emotions, let alone, someone who was just bursting with endless amounts of love. Sam gave the angel a supportive pat on the back before he was pushing him forward, forcing him to do the deed. You gave Cas a smile and a thumbs up when he hesitantly looked over his shoulder, showing you his distress as Cupid let out another sob. But Cas didn’t have much of a choice. So, he gave it his all.

“Um…look, we didn’t mean to, uh,” Cas awkwardly tried to figure out what to say to make his brother feel better. He had seen Dean apologize on very several occasions as you became upset with something he did, So, Cas tried repeating what Dean would say, hopeful it might work on Cupid. “Hurt your feelings.”

Cupid seemed to have been feeling better when he stopped crying a second later and embraced his brother with a tight hug, rocking him and Cas back and forth. “Love is more than a word to me. I love love. I love it!” Cupid declared with enthusiasm as he shut his eyes, enjoying the comforting embrace that Cas was desperately trying to get out of. But he didn’t want to be rude, so the poor angel endured for a little bit longer. “And if that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right!”

“Yes, yes. Of course. I,” Cas tried his hardest to be comforting as he went the extra mile to embrace his brother into a hug, lightly patting the naked man on the back. The angel tried to figure out why Cupid would be so caught up with a human emotion as love. It didn’t help others, and he never experienced it before himself. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“I was just on my appointed rounds. Whatever my targets do after that that’s nothing to do with me. I-I was following my orders. Please brother. Read my mind. Read my mind, you’ll see.” Cupid tried to explain his innocence as he begged for Cas to do some neat angel trick. You crossed your arms over your chest as Cas fell silent for a moment, staring off into Cupid’s eyes, all before saying that he was telling the truth. Not that you couldn’t tell from his highly peppy attitude. “Jiminy Christmas. Thank you.”

“Wait, wait, you said—You said you were just following orders?” You asked him, finding it a bit interesting. Cupid nodded his head as his lips stretched into a smile, obviously he didn’t hate his job. He loved it. “Whose orders?”

“Heaven, silly! Heaven.” Cupid answered you with a laugh, acting as if you just told him the sky was green. You furrowed your brow in confusion as you followed up with another question, wondering why Heaven would care if two people meet. “Oh, mostly they don’t. You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Oh, like you three.”

“What?” Sam asked, officially confused himself.

“Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester— Very big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement. Mm. And then Andrew and Ella Y/L/N, that was a bit of a strange one. Left a few of us scratching our heads. I mean, she was all set to marry—you! Well, not you.” Cupid pointed at the vessel Cas had chosen. “Poor thing wanted it all. Anywho, Ella and Andrew was the easy part. Love at first sight, my favorite! But John and Mary, let me tell you, both of them were stubborn. Ooh, they couldn’t stand each other at first. But when we were done with them—Perfect couple!”

“Perfect?” Dean asked, repeating the angel. Cupid nodded his head with a growing smile, the man didn’t find it all that amusing. “They’re dead! All of them are!”

“I’m sorry. But the orders were clear. You and Sam needed to be born. And it was crucial for Andrew to be the father to Y/N. Certain bloodline and all that jazz. They don’t really tell me anything.” Cupid said, shrugging his shoulders as he smiled, not seeming to care about the details of why. “Oh! But you two. I feel so honored to be in the presence of my own work. And you think John and Mary were a big deal? You two are like celebrities up there in my neck of the woods. Everyone wanted the job. when Y/N was born. But I was the lucky one.” 

“Excuse me?” You asked, wondering what he was talking about.

“I remember when the two of you were just babies. So precious. Now look at the both of you. All grown up.” Cupid said with a grin. He reached out and lightly pinched your cheek, you quickly slapped his hand away, urging him to tell you what he exactly meant by that. “You know my favorite kind of love that just beats the rest? Soulmates. It’s such a rare thing we get to do. And to see the cute couple I paired up with? Boy, it’s like Christmas for me!”

“Wait, wait.” You stopped the angel from saying anything else for a moment, wanting to get this straightened out before he could go on about something else. “Are you telling me Dean and I are—”

“Soulmates? Oh, you don’t know how big of a deal it was when we heard the news. This is a rare occurrence that almost never happens. I mean, who would’ve thought Michael’s vessel and Lucifer’s offspring would make such a good couple? You two are what life’s all about. Good versus evil. Heaven and Hell. One without the other would mean chaos. But together, oh, it’s just right.” Cupid said. He intertwined his fingers to get his point across even more. “Opposites really do attract!”

“That’s crap.” Dean muttered, he let out a bitter sounding chuckle as he rolled his eyes. “Why would you dicks set us up? For what reason?”

“Aren’t you a grumpy one today. Good things do happen to you, Dean. Both of you were specially meant to be together. It’s what we we’re told to do.” Cupid said. You bit your bottom lip as a smile began to creep at the ends of your lips. The angel, however, was grinning from ear to ear as he burst out into a little tune. “Match made in Heaven! Heaven!”

You were starting to warm up to this Cupid, thinking he was really just a harmless angel who was one of the rare creatures who liked their job. Dean, however, wasn’t the slightest bit amused at what he heard. There was no such thing as true love. He knew the real reason why you and him were meant to be together. Dean, without a single ounce of remorse, tried to swing a punch at the angel to quiet him up. It only ended with him cradling his now bruised hand as he winced in pain. Cupid, your only source to figuring out what was going on, wasn’t feeling the love anymore. When you blinked, trying to apologize for the older Winchester’s obnoxious behavior, Cupid was nowhere to be seen. You let out a frustrated sigh and turned to face the man.

“Where is he?” Dean asked, looking around the room to see where that fat naked man went. He wasn’t done with him just yet. “Where’d he go?!”

“I believe you upset him.” Cas said.

Dean scoffed at what the angel said, “Upset him?! What’s he got to be upset about?”

“Oh my God. Dean, enough with the attitude!” You snapped at him, rolling your eyes in frustration from this anger that hadn’t left him since you came back to the present. Dean looked at you with a glare, as if you had no right to call him out on his odd behavior. “You just punched a cupid!”

“I punched a dick, Y/N!” Dean shouted at you.

"Really? ‘Cause the only dick that I see is you!” You argued with the man. Dean looked at you with a look, obviously, the man wasn’t in the mood for this. And neither were you. He’d been keeping himself away from you lately, more than usual. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Acting like what?” Dean questioned you back.

"You get all…defensive and angry whenever I try to do something alone with you. And with what Cupid said—you freaked out, like he said you were doomed for some terrible fate. I thought you would be happy. What? Are you ashamed of me all of a sudden?” You asked him, putting your insecurities out there for the open, slightly forgetting that Sam and Cas were just behind you, watching all of this unfold. Dean’s face softened slightly from what he’d done as he quickly said no. You didn’t look at him any differently. “Because you’re acting like you are. Ever since we got back from 1978. Something happened to you. I know. Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you or not?”

"Or not.” Dean said, his voice marking it the end of the argument.

You shook your head in annoyance, but instead of giving him the satisfaction walking away, you turned around on your heels and stormed out of the backroom. Dean let out a breath from what he’d done. He looked away from the doorway and to his brother, who was staring at him with his own concern. Cas, however, was confused at what had unfolded and wondered himself what might have caused this sort of behavior in the older Winchester.

\+ + +

The next morning you gotten a call from Dr. Coleman, but instead of you tagging along with the boys, you decided to check this one out yourself. You had been avoided Dean for long as possible and knowing Sam, he would try to see how you were doing. It was just a simple run down to the morgue, dressed in your usual formal clothing, to see if the dead body that showed up last night might have been your thing. You followed behind the doctor as you reached out a hand to keep the swinging door open for yourself, both of you headed into the dead body awaiting you.

“You said you wanted to hear about any other weird ones.” Dr. Coleman said, leading you to the table which held the body with the sheet still over it. He let out a sigh, seeming pained to do this once more, your eyebrows shot up to see it was a man who appeared to be in mostly decent condition. The strange part of this came straight away with his stomach, it was as if he had stuffed himself full. And he did. “Lester Finch. Pulled his records. Looks like this gentleman used to weigh four hundred pounds or so, till he got a gastric bypass, which brought down his weight considerably.” You listened to what the doctor was saying, grabbing the files from his hand to look them over yourself. “But then for some reason, last night, he decided to on a twinkie binge.”

“Wait, what?” You accidentally found yourself letting out a slight chuckle. But you quickly cleared your throat, managing to compose yourself so you wouldn’t appear insensitive. “So, he died from a twinkie binge?”

“Well, after he blew out the band around his stomach, he filled it up till he burst. When he could no longer swallow, he started jamming the cakes down his gullet with a…with a toilet brush, like he was ramrodding a canon.” Dr. Coleman explained the gritty details that made you flinch at what the poor man had went through. You asked the doctor what he thought caused such a disastrous way to go. “I’d say that it was a very peculiar thing to do…”

You nodded your head in agreement, that was, until you looked back at the doctor. You furrowed your brow when he decided to something strange himself that almost topped off the guy who would do anything to eat a sponge cake with a cream filling inside. Dr. Coleman took out a flask from his lab coat pocket and took a sip, having no shame in himself. You had a feeling that wasn’t water he was drinking. Well, as they say, it’s five o’clock somewhere in the world.

You left Dr. Coleman to enjoy his booze when you gotten a whiff of his breath after you thanked him for letting you take a look at the man’s organs. You exited the building and out to the quiet city streets for this morning. Slipping your phone out of your pocket, you kept to yourself and slowed down your pace so you could punch in Sam’s number and tell him what you had found. It took a few rings before the man picked up.

“So, I just got done checking out the body.” You said. “This guy was not marked by Cupid, but his death is definitely suspicious.”

“Yeah. Dean and I just went through the police blotter, and counting him, that’s eight suicides since Wednesday and nineteen O.D.s—that’s way out of the seasonal average.” Sam said, finding all of this was much more bigger than what all of you had suspected. “If there’s a pattern here, it ain’t just love. It’s a hell of a lot bigger than we thought.”

“True. All right, well, I’ll meet you guys back at the motel in about ten minutes.” You stopped in your tracks for a second so you could end the call. But it seemed that you were in the way for a fellow who was in a hurry. You felt someone roughly brush their shoulder against yours, making you stumble forward. You furrowed your brows in anger to see it was some guy dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. He was probably some prick who was late to a business meeting. You rolled your eyes and put your phone back into your pocket. Your hand accidentally brushed against the demon blade that was stuck in the waistband for safekeeping. And, just like that, it popped into your head like a normal thought.

You could teach him a lesson. If you know what I mean. He seems like a dick, anyway. And the entire world is filled with men who are nothing more than scum on the bottom of your shoe. Is the world going to be any different without one less? Probably not.

Where the hell was this coming from? You looked away from the man, trying your hardest not to keep your mind lingering on such an intrusive thought. But it seemed you found yourself looking away from anything, and back to the man. You’ve gotten away with murder before. Think of all those demons you’ve killed. They weren’t empty vessels, there were people in there. What’s stopping you now? Huh? Nothing, really. You tried your hardest to keep yourself in the direction of the motel, but it seemed your thoughts were controlling your footsteps, because before you knew it, you were following behind the man, straight into an alley. When it was just the two of you, you slipped a hand to your skirt, and pulled out the knife.

The man continued on down his path through the alley, lost in his own thoughts, he would have never suspected what was about to happen next. You came out from nowhere and somehow overpowered him, slamming him up against the brick wall and placed the demon knife against the crook of his neck. He flinched at the feeling, but instead of being some old human, you noticed right away it was a demon from how his eyes changed to the color of black. Your lips stretched into a smirk, thinking this was going to be even better. Killing two for the price of one.

“Thought I smelled something rotten.” You hissed at him. You didn’t waste a second when you lifted the knife away from his throat, only to slash his cheek, wanting to see him bleed for you. He let out a gasp of pain, but before he could react, you quickly resumed your position so he couldn’t do anything stupid. “Since when does a demon carry around a briefcase?”

“To do this.”

The demon took the arm holding the briefcase and roughly swung it, managing to hit you directly where it would hurt. You weren’t expecting the blow, causing you to lose your balance by a bit and accidentally let the knife slip out from your hand. While you managed to get yourself back together again, a sudden rush of adrenaline felt like your veins were on fire. But the demon was faster. You flinched when you felt the knife suddenly come out of nowhere, the demon made a quick and persuasive slip to your side, ripping through the fabric of your shirt and slicing at your skin, just enough to draw blood. You reacted by roughly charging forward and slamming him against the wall, the both of you struggled to get the knife out from his grip, but you won this time. You brought the knife up to stab him, but the demon defended himself by shielding his body, only letting you cut his arm as revenge.

You let out what sounded like a growl from what you couldn’t do. The demon used your distraction as a way to get himself out of this fight with nothing more than a flesh wound. He pushed you back just far enough for you to go tumbling down to the pavement. You landed on your hands and knees, making your palms and legs get skinned from the fall. You watched as the demon ran fast as he could, leaving his briefcase behind. Letting out a huff of breath in frustration, you dusted off the gravel that stuck into your skin and reached for the demon knife. You cleaned off the blood that was a mixture of your own and the demon’s on the fabric of your skirt. When the blade was partly clean, you could see your reflection. Staring back at you in the blade of the knife were a pair of black eyes.

\+ + +

You came back to the motel in a half an hour later. You stood outside of the boys’ motel room with the briefcase. But before you made your entrance, you made sure your story stuck with what you made up on the way back. You quickly untucked your shirt and messed up your hair, just enough to show of the struggle that you went through. When you thought it was decent enough, you huffed a few breaths to get your emotions flowing before you were pounding on the door. You impatiently waited until someone opened up the door. It took a few moments, when Sam opened it up, he noticed right away that something happened to you from how you paced back and forth.

“Oh my God, Y/N.” Sam ushered you inside when you were on the near brink of tears and shut the door behind you. Dean leaned his head forward over to see what was going on. You painfully shrugged off your jacket and threw it to the ground after Sam took the briefcase you were holding. He looked to see that your knees were all scraped up and the wound you had endured left a large blood stain in your white button up shirt. It looked like you were in a fight. “What the hell happened to you?”

"Are you all right?” Dean asked with concern when he took one look at your appearance which was far different from what he’d seen you last in. He lightly grabbed a hold of your chin to take inspection of the bruise that was starting to settle on your cheek after the demon whacked you with the briefcase. While you had scrapes and marks on your skin, it was the wound you gotten with the knife that made him become angry at what happened to you. “Who the hell did this, Y/N? I’ll kill ‘em.”

“I’m fine, really. He just caught me off guard.“ You managed to let a lie slip through your lips like it was nothing. You accidentally winced when Dean took the liberty to start gently lifting up your shirt just enough to inspect the damage. You lifted up your arm to see that part of your side was cut deep enough to draw some blood, maybe enough for some stitches. But you wouldn’t be able to tell until you cleaned the wound. "The demon got off worse than me.”

"See? This is why I don’t want you—"

"I’m very much capable of myself, Dean.“

“Okay, okay. I’m not the one who’s running from the Devil.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, trying to calm you down before this could become into a full blown argument. He told his brother to get some towels from the bathroom and a few other supplies. When Sam didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What? Are you squeamish at the sight of blood all of a sudden?”

Sam could smell it again. The strong order that him straight where it would hurt, bringing a hunger that he thought had died long ago when Ruby did. It was demon blood, but not any other kind of one that he’d tasted before, this one was different…better than anything a demon could give him. If this were a year ago and Ruby waved something like that in his face, Sam would have jumped on the opportunity to get a taste. But he knew better. The smell wasn’t coming from the demon that you must have stabbed. It was coming from you.

"Sam!“ You snapped at the younger man, breaking him straight out of his personal thoughts. You stared at him with a cold and dark expression from his lack of attention that he was giving the situation. All though this was your own fault, you suddenly felt a wave of anger directed towards the boys for some reason why. If looks could kill, you hoped each of them would drop dead.

\+ + +

You were patched up in no time and switched back to some normal clothing, bidding farewell to one of the few dress shirts you owned. The problem of having to throw away clothing was something that happened every once in awhile. But it wasn’t that big of a problem. All you had to do was go to a shop and buy another. But for some reason, it put your mood over the edge, making you walk around like a rainstorm was following you. Every little thing that went on around you pushed you deeper into this mood you couldn’t shake. Whether it’d be if Dean said something or Sam breathed a little too loudly. All of you managed to pull yourselves together to figure out what you brought home after attacking a stranger, who, lucky for you, turned out to be a demon by chance. What the boys didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“What the hell does a demon got to do with this, anyway?” Dean asked the both of you, but he just so happen to turn his head to look at you.

“Does it look like I know everything, Einstein? I have no idea.” You found yourself answering him with a snappy tone. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at the object with a bitter expression like you didn’t want to be here. The boys were taken back from your attitude that you couldn’t shake since coming back. Each of them looked at you with a concerned expression, which you brushed off with yet another eye roll. “Why don’t you ladies do yourselves a favor and open the damn thing. Let’s figure out what’s going on here.”

The brothers listened to your snappy command, deciding that you were right about one thing. You watched as each of them crouched down on the ground so it’d be easier to unlock the briefcase. It took a minute to get the combination down right they could properly open it. You would have never expected for what happened next. A burst of light suddenly hit you directly in the eyes, catching you off guard, and forcing your hands to shield yourself from the bindingness. It lasted for a few seconds, while it slowly began to fade, your eyes adjusted and looked back at the briefcase once more to see what could have caused such a dramatic scene. Whatever was inside there had just disappeared like that.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, taken back from what just unfolded.

“It’s a human soul.” You looked over your shoulder when a voice came from behind, it was Cas. He stood across the motel room after deciding to pop himself without an invitation. You looked at him with a bit of confusion to see that he must have been having some of the munchies from the fast food bag in one hand and a half eaten burger in the other. “It’s starting to make sense.”

“Now, what about that makes sense?” Sam asked the angel.

“And when did you start eating?” Dean wondered.

“Exactly.” Cas said. “My hunger—it’s a clue, actually.”

"For what?”

"For what?“

“Oh my God.” You muttered underneath your breath, suddenly becoming angered when the boys had accidentally spoken at the same time “Do you guys always have to do that?”

“This town is not suffering from love-gone-wrong effect. It’s suffering from hunger.” Cas explained as he walked over to the three of you. “Starvation to be exact—specifically, famine.”

“Famine? As in the horseman?” Sam asked, wanting to be clear of what could be going on here. Dean wasn’t all too pleased to be hearing about dealing with another one of these bastards. The last one you had dealt with wasn’t so easy. “I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.”

“Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something—sex, attention, drugs, love.” Cas gave just a few examples of what could have been causing this sort of behavior. You and Sam slowly looked away, each of you wondering about yourselves. The hunger for blood, violence. Dean noted about the two couples who had murdered each other after being hit up with Cupid’s arrow. “Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then famine came and made them rabid for it.”

“Okay, but what about you?” Dean asked. He gestured a hand at the angel when Cas took another bite of his hamburger when he wasn’t speaking. “I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?”

“It’s my vessel—Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by famine’s effect.” Cas said. He tried his hardest not to indulge in the feeling, but he couldn’t help himself to take another bite.

“So,” You tried to wrap your mind around what could be happening to everyone in this town, and your angel friend here who always had a strong will. But even he was starting to crumble from his own personal hunger. “Famine just rolls into town, and everybody goes crazy?”

“‘And then will come famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the horseman’s hunger, for he is hunger.’” Cas resisted a few not so pleasant words about the horseman himself, proving to be much worse than War. For you were only hurting not others, but yourself. “Famine’s hungry. He must devour the souls of his victims. Lucifer has sent his demons to care for famine, to feed him, make certain he’ll be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“To march across the land.”

\+ + +

He felt like his entire body was on fire. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own heartbeat pounding inside his ears like a drum. Each thump kept telling him to feed his desire. He wanted it. He needed it.

Sam inhaled a deep breath as he stood in front of the motel bathroom sink with a clean washcloth he found and rank it under some cold water, hoping he could snap himself out of this before he would do something he would regret for the rest of his life. He tried to keep himself calm when he pressed the washcloth against the crook of his neck, giving him some relief. But it wasn’t enough. Sam placed a hand against the sink and leaned forward, shutting his eyes, he hoped this feeling would pass. While the three of you discussed the matters of what was going on in town, Sam took another deep breath, trying to get his own hunger to disappear. But he could smell it again, the iron rich taste that made his mouth water. Opening up one of his eyes, Sam spotted the bloodied towels from your wounds Dean used to clean up were lying on the ground. Just begging for him to get a taste…

No, no, no. Sam forced the poisonous thought of his head and tried his hardest to concentrate on getting himself back to normal. This wasn’t himself talking, this was Famine. Sam managed to try and calm himself down just a little bit. His eyes wandered to his reflection in the mirror to take a look at his complexion. He looked terrible, strung out and wanting something he couldn’t have. It was exactly how he felt when Ruby would leave him for weeks at a time. Strung out of his mind and desperately needing a taste of her blood. He looked away from his distraught self to you, who was standing with your back to him, not having a clue of what you were doing to him. Sam felt his grip around the sink tighten when you moved your hair away from your neck, as if you were taunting him, giving him a peek of something he couldn’t have. It took every ounce of his self control not to slit your throat and drink your blood until you were dry.

“So, what,” You broke the man out of his concentration, making him realize what he was about to do. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching the angel on the bed take the final bites of his burger before coming to the heartbreaking conclusion he’d finished it. “This whole town is just gonna eat, drink and screw itself to death?”

“We should stop it.” Cas said with a mouth full of food.

“No, Cas. I think all of us should sit here, braid each other’s hair and tell our deepest secrets!“ You sarcastically suggested, throwing your arm up in the air for an added effect of how angry you were becoming. "Yeah, we should. Any of you bastards got a clue?”

“How’d you stop the last horseman you met?” Cas asked.

Your face scrunched up slightly at the question as you looked over at the older Winchester, both of you trying to remember how you managed to stop the horseman. Dean walked over to a coat rack where he’d tossed his jacket, almost forgetting of what he’d been carrying around since then. “War got his mojo from this ring. And after Y/N cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. And everybody that was affected, it was like they woke up out of a dream.” Dean said, showing off the simple gold band. “You think Famine’s got a class ring, too?”

“I know he does.” Cas said with little no interest to the conversation anymore. His main focus was trying to find any sort of scrap he left on the tinfoil that was wrapped his burger.

“Well, okay. Let’s track him down and get to chopping.” Dean said, seeming this could be easy. He looked at the state of Cas, who was more wrapped up in this new obsession with his new taste for human food than stopping one of the horseman. “What are you, the Hamburglar?”

“I’ve developed a taste for ground beef.” Cas said, noting his strange behavior.

“Well, have you tried to stop it?”

“I’m an angel. I can stop anytime I want.”

Sam wished the words were true for himself. But he couldn’t stop the hunger that was clawing at his mind, demanding to be feed. He let out another strained breath as he managed to hold on for a little longer. Sam didn’t know how much more time he could do this until he snapped. While his brother called out his name to start wrapping up whatever he was doing in the bathroom, Sam let out a deep sigh, knowing he needed to be honest about this.

“Dean, I, uh…I can’t. I can’t go.” Sam managed to say. He walked over to the bathroom door and leaned against the frame, digging in his nails, he tried his hardest to avoid any eye contact with you. His brother looked at him with a confused expression, wondering what he couldn’t. “I think it got to me, Dean. I think I’m hungry for it…”

Dean narrowed his eyes on his little brother, from what he was hinting at, “Hungry for what?”

“It’s worse than before.” Sam admitted, hating himself for what he was about to say. But he didn’t need to give one little word. Dean watched as his little brother slowly brought his gaze away from him, and to you, who had no idea what was going on. This entire time you had no idea that even before he wanted it back when you’d met the first horseman. “ I can smell it from here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grunted underneath his breath, finding the compromise he was being put in was the hardest thing that he was facing right now. You gave the man a confused look, not sure what was going on and the effect you were having on his little brother. Dean looked over at the angel, hoping he could pull himself together just enough to keep his brother and you safe before the worst could happen. “You got to get him out of here. You got to beam him to, like, Montana. Anywhere from Y/N.”

“It won’t work.” Cas said, giving the man some unfortunate news. “He’s already infected. The hunger is just gonna travel with him.

Dean huffed out a breath, wondering what the hell he was going to do with his brother who was craving some blood, He knew he couldn’t risk the chance of letting Sam alone with you. Sam knew the dangers of himself. “You got to cut that bastard’s finger off.” The younger Winchester said, thinking it was the most important thing right now. Once Famine was taken down, all of you would return back to normal. Dean wasn’t exactly happy with the idea, he didn’t want to leave his little brother alone like this. But desperate times call for desperate measures. “But guys, before you go, you better lock me down. And good.”

There wasn’t much room for a discussion here of what to do. The farther the night dragged on, the people who were affected by Famine’s touch were only going to grow worse. Dean fetched a pair of handcuffs from the duffel bag and locked up his little brother to the exposed piping beneath the sink. Sam didn’t protest with one single word, he just sat on the grimy bathroom floor and let his brother do what he needed. You stood in the doorway, watching this sight unfold, still not knowing you were the one who was making him this way. Not yet, at least.

“All right, well, just hang in there.” Dean said. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Be careful.” Sam warned his older brother of the dangers that were ahead for the three of them. He felt guilty for having to sit this one out because of his old addiction. But he couldn’t take the risk of putting all of you in danger. “And hurry.”

Dean patted his little brother on the shoulder, reassuring him that everything would be fine. He pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the bathroom, giving Sam one more look, he shut the door behind him. Cas did the honors of pushing the armoire across the floor like it was nothing, giving a bit more leverage for Sam to be locked up like a feral beast. While you snatched your coat from the bed, you were getting ready yourself to head out, you felt someone grab ahold of your arm, pinning you into place. You looked up to see Cas was the culprit. You gave him a dirty look and tried to take back your arm, but the angel proved to be stronger. You were about to ask him what he was doing, your temper suddenly rising again, but you only managed to speak half your question before you were letting out a scream from the pain you suddenly felt.

It felt like someone just threw acid in your face, the burning sensation felt like your skin was about to peel off. You felt yourself stumbling backwards as your hands hovered over your soaking wet face, but you couldn’t touch it, the liquid only burned any exposed skin even more. You could smell something like burning flesh. The feeling lasted for a few moments before you felt yourself return back to normal. You huffed out whatever breath escaped your lungs and rested your hands on your knees. Looking up at Cas with a venomous glare, you stared at the angel and the oldest Winchester with an eye color they’d only seen in the enemy.

"What the…” Dean found himself lost for words at what had unfolded, his brow furrowed together as he tried figuring out the reasoning behind why your eyes turned black and skin sizzled. You returned back to normal as you inhaled a few deep breaths, wiping away what remained of the water. Holy water, if Dean guessed. “What the hell did you just do?”

“Y/N can’t come with us. She’s been affected by Famine herself.” Cas explained, but giving little reasoning behind why. Dean knew the anger, but, God, he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to know that it was true. You tried telling them both that you were fine. “Most humans crave things such as love, sex, food. Things that people need to survive on. For Sam, it was the demon blood. Jimmy with the red meat. But Y/N…it’s her demon side. She’s craving violence, chaos. We can’t risk the chance of letting her near Famine. She could grow worse.”

Now Dean understood why his brother was craving the blood again, you were a walking blood bag for him. The wound you had endured was like putting a six pack in front of a recovery alcoholic. It’d be only a matter of time before they ripped off the neck and went for exactly what they wanted. Dean couldn’t look at you. He shifted around in his spot to stare at the wall, his brain trying to wrack up a plan that could help stop this. Little brother was hungry for blood. You would do just about anything to make them bleed.

“Great. This is just great.” Dean grunted underneath his breath. “So, what do we do with her? Put her in a devil’s trap and make her wait until we get back?”

"I’m afraid a devil’s trap won’t work. She’s not a full demon yet. It’s the demonic side in her that craves violence is what’s affected by Famine.” Cas said. Dean let out a breath, the poor man was becoming overwhelmed with the lack of options he was being given here. The angel had thought of a plan. “However, we could lock her up like Sam. She’s still partly human, after all.”

\+ + +

You thought he was going to trust you over some angel who didn’t even know how things like human emotions worked right. He was only turning into a gluttonous pig who craved food. Once more you tried again to tug on the handcuffs that Dean put on you for your own safety. You let out a scoff and moved your hand against one of the legs on the bed. Lucky for you, the man had a bit of a heart. Instead of throwing you into the bathroom like they’d done to Sam, you were sitting on the carpeted floor of the motel, one wrist was cuffed to the wooden leg of the bed as the other was free to do what you pleased. Dean kept apologizing, saying that he didn’t want to do this. But it was for your own safety. You were danger to yourself and others. The man you loved, who was your soulmate, even looked at you like you were the monster here.

“I told you he was no good for you.”

You rolled your eyes in frustration at the voice that came out from nowhere. The Devil on your shoulder. You knew it would be only a matter of time until he would come back along, wanting to kick you when you were down. Tugging on the handcuff, you let out a sharp sigh when they wouldn’t budge again. You looked away from the empty corner of the room to the full length mirror that was positioned just right to give you a reflection of yourself and the familiar face sitting on the edge of the bed. “What do you want?”

“I get lonely on this cold, winter nights. I wanted to see you again.” Lucifer always had a way of getting under your skin. You flinched when he moved himself closer to you, wanting to make you uncomfortable as possible. But it wasn’t his presence that made you tense. It was knowing that he was right about all of this. “You’re coming along quite nicely, Y/N. Exactly how I thought Famine would make you. A femme fatale. Demanding to be broken loose and let to roam these streets, slaughtering the innocent…and not so innocent.”

His words, in the tone of voice that he was using, shouldn’t have made you feel like he was whispering sweet nothings into your ear like how Dean did to get you in the mood. It was like he was telling you he loved you, he wanted to give you everything you ever desired. You looked away from your reflection when you had a moment of clarity, suddenly realizing of what you were doing, of what you’ve been

. Dean was right. This wasn’t you. This was what the Devil wanted you to be. You tried your hardest to cling onto this thought, but you found yourself being broken away when you felt a hand lightly grip your chin, forcing you to look at the thing who made you this way. His lips stretched into a faint smile as he began to slowly shake his head no.

“Dean’s the one lying to you, not me. He’s ashamed of what you’re becoming. It will only be a matter of time until he turns his back on you.” Lucifer said, feeding you more things that you were trying to believe were lies. It was your turn to shake your head as you mumbled something about he loved you, he wouldn’t do something to hurt you. “I thought Michael loved me. But that was a lie. He turned his back on me, and Dean will do the same to you and Sam. And Sam…he needs you. He needs everything you can give him. Your mind, soul, body…the blood running through your veins.”

Lucifer ran a finger down your arm that was chained to the bed. But with a simple tug, you were set free. You clutched your wrist and began rubbing at the spot that ached from tugging on it so hard. Looking at the person in front of you, your lips stretched into a smile as you nodded your head, agreeing to what Lucifer had said. You didn’t flinch when you noticed footsteps arriving just outside of the motel room. You looked away from Lucifer and to the reflection of yourself in the mirror. There you sat on the floor with a bruising wrist and a growing smile on your lips, thinking the Devil on your shoulder was still there, freeing you to do the work he wanted so you and Sam could get stronger. Only he hadn’t been there at all.

You looked away from yourself in the mirror and to the motel room door that went swinging open after someone broke off the handle. But you didn’t move. You watched as two demons took the liberty to step inside the room, smirking to themselves at the sheer pleasure of seeing their job being cut easy for them. You stood up from your spot, knowing you might not have the demon knife with you or anything to really protect yourself from them. But you weren’t scared of them. They should’ve been scared of you.

\+ + +

Sam couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to get free for his own sanity. Just a little taste, that’s all he really needed. He struggled to get himself free from the handcuffs by trying to get the pipe loose, thinking that could be at least a start here. But the only thing Sam was doing was wasting his precious energy. He could always get himself out of these kinds of situations. If only he could concentrate. But all his mind kept thinking about was blood. God, he was so hungry. The man could almost taste it again on his tongue when he inhaled a deep breath, trying to gain some stamina back to shake the pipe a little harder. The air was thick of that iron rich smell, it was almost too powerful. It wrapped around his throat and squeezed, making him choke on it. Sam could feel himself grow even more rabid for it. As he tried to tug on the pipe one more time, the man stopped, hearing the sounds of the armoire scrap against the floors again.

“Guys, what happened? I don’t think it worked.” Sam thought it was Dean and Cas standing from behind the door. The smell of blood was getting stronger, he thought it was all in his head. “I think I’m still—” Who opened the door wasn’t someone he was expecting. He could feel his mouth drop slightly, suddenly realizing where the smell was coming from. He wasn’t going crazy. You stood in the doorway, covered head and toe in blood, you stared at him with a comforting smile. He backed away from you, trying his hardest to control himself. “…Still hungry.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” You said. Sam watched as you walked over to him, and as if you didn’t know the consequences of your actions, easily snapped off his handcuffs like you had done for yourself. Sam should have questioned your sudden strength. But all he could focus was on not sinking his teeth into your neck and getting a sweet taste. He tried his hardest to warn you that you needed to stay away from him for your own safety. But you didn’t listen. Instead, you slipped a hand into your back pocket, pulling out a switchblade. You flicked your wrist and put the blade to your wrist. With a simple swipe of the knife, Sam’s mouth watered as a small amount of blood began to rise to the surface. You gave him another smile as you brought your wrist to his awaiting mouth. “Don’t be afraid, Sammy. I know you want to. Do it.”

Sam should have listened to what little conscious he had left. He knew the consequences if he let himself have one little taste. But he found himself hypnotized at the sight of blood slowly dripping from your wound, going wasted to the floor. You had Ruby’s blood running through your veins, Lilith’s too, mixed with your own. A dangerous cocktail Sam wanted to try. And without an ounce of remorse, Sam roughly snatched your wrist, bringing it to his lips and sucked the blood from your body. He closed his eyes, feeling a wave of euphoria hit him, a high like he’d never experienced before. This was so much better than any demon he had, not even Ruby’s blood was this good. While he sucked the blood from your body, your lips stretched into a smile, whispering that he could take much as he wanted. There was plenty more from where that came from. You had two demons waiting to be sucked dry for him. He needed to be strong for what the both of you were about to do.

\+ + +

You might have been going crazy, but you were still a hunter. You knew that Famine needed to be taken down. That was the only real logical thought in your head over the past few hours. All you knew that someone was going to die. Nobody was going to stand in your way. No demon, little horseman, angel or hunter. It was almost too easy to find out where Famine would be. You took down the demons that were standing in your way after getting the answers out of the ones that thought it would have been a good idea to show up at your motel. The horseman was hiding out in some all you can eat buffet, the breeding ground for human desire. Victims of eating themselves too much or drinking themselves to death, you spotted a couple who screwed a little too hard. But the most pathetic thing of them all was Cas, the angel who thought he had strong will, was reduced to an animal who tried craving his hunger for meat by shoving raw meat into his face, the demon knife laid just a foot away from him. Dean, who had had almost no effect, wasn’t so high and mighty when he found himself caught by a couple of demons.

Someone could tell you all they wanted about how Dean was going to hurt you in the end. But he didn’t show you that. Part of your humanity was still in tact, what little remained that could speak through your hunger, knew he locked you up for your own safety. But you were stronger now, you were thinking more clearly. He needed you, and you needed him right. You did all of this for him.

“Let him go.”

War, the horseman, posed himself as an everyday man so he could see the action himself unfold into chaos. Famine, he posed himself as a feeble, old man who was bound to a motorized wheelchair. From the looks of it, he couldn’t take care of himself, too weak to get his own souls to feed off of. Maybe that was his true desire. He had endless demons to wait on him hand and foot because he loved the power, the endless attention being drawn on him. He wanted people to hunt and kill for him. He wanted to see humanity crumble to his feet and die from their own secret desires. Famine turned around in his wheelchair when he heard your voice. But you weren’t alone. Dean looked away from the horseman to see a sight that wasn’t good. He felt his heart drop into the lowest pit of his stomach. It was a nightmare of his coming true.

You stood in front of them with clothes soaked in blood, your face had bits of it drying on your skin and your knuckles were severely torn up and bruised. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Dean looked down at your wrist to see there was a deep gash in the wound, like you’d slit your own wrist. His brother stood behind you, his mouth was covered in blood. If he knew any better, the man was hyped up on blood, copious amounts that satisfied his hunger just a little bit. Yet it would only be a matter of time until he wanted more. More and more until he turned into a demon. Just like before.

“Stop!” Famine cried out, hauling his demons that were about ready to attack. You narrowed your eyes slightly, waiting for them to move, only to end up like their other friends. The horseman stared at you and Sam with such magnificence, like he was honored to meet the both of you. “No one lays a finger on these sweet kids. Y/N, I see you got the present I sent you.”

“You sent them?” You asked, a bit confused as to why.

"Oh, you look just like her. She was so beautiful. So hungry for everything what Lucifer offered her.” Famine whispered, his gaze drawn into a gaze as he focused on every little feature that he could see in the dim light of the restaurant. You gave him a look, wondering who he was talking about, but he never gave you the chance to ask. “Y/N, you are growing stronger each day. And Sam, you’re not like everybody else. You’ll never die from drinking too much. Especially from her. She’ll live to feed that growing hunger of yours. Both of you are the exception to the rules. Just the way Satan wanted you to be. So…cut their throats. Have at them!”

A few hours ago, Sam would have done anything to drain all these demons dry. But he had his fill. With his head on straight, the man decided to pull out an old trick that he hadn’t done in a long time. Sam, with almost no effort, exorcised the demon straight out of their human bodies with no strain. He didn’t know why, but he felt stronger than ever, in complete control with a clear mind. Dean, however, found this entire situation a growing nightmare with each passing second. Sam opened his eyes, and with a defiant smirk on his blood stained lips, he told the horseman no. Like he was any better than him right now.

“Well, fine. If you don’t want them….then I’ll have them.” Famine said. You watched as the puffs of black smoke that were lingering across the floor soon went straight into the horseman’s awaiting mouth, feeding his desires that would never be met. You furrowed your brow at how easily they just slid down, just like that. Dean stood with the demon knife tight in his grip, but that wasn’t needed. Sam thought he would be strong enough to take Famine down with his special abilities that hadn’t failed him yet. Famine stared at the man with a smile, showing off his rotten teeth as he let out a horse laugh. “I’m a horseman, Sam. Your power doesn’t work on me.”

“You’re right.” Sam agreed. “But it will work on them.”

Sam’s intentions weren’t on the horseman’s soul, but the demons and humans Famine ingested over the past several days, he was using the horseman’s weakness against him. The younger man used every single strength he had to pull the demons out from the feeble body. While it wasn’t straining on him as it had been while killing Lilith in the abandoned convent, it was pretty close. But he kept going. He pushed himself and watched as the puffs of smoke began to escape from Famine, and suddenly, the horseman was reduced to an empty meat suit. And just like that, everyone snapped back to normal.

Cas found himself crouched down on the ground, his hands covered in raw meat. Sam didn’t feel the hunger raging in his head anymore, he felt satisfied. And you, you felt like someone had hit you with a ton of bricks. You looked down at yourself to see what you caused. You slowly lifted up your hands to see why they felt like they were such in so much pain. That’s when you noticed how bruised and torn up your knuckles were. How much blood was on you. You had little time to focus on that when you felt yourself looking down at your wrist, and the gash across the skin. A flash of what you done crossed your mind for a few moments. You slowly looked away from the mess and to the scenery around you. You blinked a few times, suddenly wondering why everything was spinning so fast around you and why you felt so lightheaded. As you took a step forward, it was your only one, until you felt yourself go crashing forward, and losing consciousness before your body even hit the ground. 

\+ + +

You didn’t know where you were for a split second. As you slowly came back into consciousness, your entire body felt like someone threw you off a building. Your muscles haven’t ached this bad in a long time, and when you tried stretching out your fingers, you were suddenly hit with an overwhelming amount of pain, making you regret the move. It hurt when you tried to move on your side, and your wrist felt like someone broke it. You kept your eyes closed, not only did you start to psychically hurt, but your mind suddenly came flooding back with all these images of things that you had dreamed about while you were passed out. Horrible things that you hoped were just a nightmare created by the figment of your creative imagination. Ever so cautiously, you opened up one eye to inspect the damage of what you’ve done to yourself.

Your knuckles were the first thing you took notice of; they were severely bruised and bits of skin were torn. Someone tried their hardest to clean them best as they could, but they felt raw, like you fought someone. One wrist was bandaged up and the other had a strange bruise around it, you knew where both of them had come from. You looked away from the self inflicted wounds to the room you had been lying in. The familiar sight brought a sense of safety over you when you realized that you were at Bobby’s, lying in that ratty couch of his you always crashed on while the boys took the floor. You had managed to push yourself up into a sitting position, but the action caused you to not forget the gash on your side. You winced in pain as you leaned back in your seat, suddenly feeling out of breath from the excruciating psychical movement you put yourself through. For a second you tried to figure out what was going on, presuming all those memories that were cluttering your head were just fictional. 

You couldn’t have done all those horrible, terrible things. Why would you attack a random stranger on the street because they bumped into you? And it didn’t make it better that it happened to have been a demon. And you faking everything. But you knew that wasn’t the worst of it. Your eyes glanced down to the bruised and bloody knuckles. All the blood that stained your clothes, the things you did to those people…Then what you allowed Sam to do. Your fingers tightly grazed the gauze around your wrist. You wanted, hoped…prayed that, out of anything you did, that was just a dream. There was no way you could have done that to him.

The pleads and shouting you heard coming from the basement told a different story. It told the truth.

You wanted to cry, but you couldn’t. You stared off into space with a tight knot in your throat. You attacked that stranger. You beat those demons up and used them like your own stress toy, a rage you never felt before in your life took over you, like a monster. You let Sam drink your own blood. Why? Because the Devil made you do it. Because he said it would make Sam strong.

Funny thing…he only came to you when you were sleeping, He didn’t have the ability to pop up whenever he desired. Maybe you hallucinated the entire thing. And it would make sense if you picked up on the things the boys wouldn’t tell you. The real reason why Sam left all those months ago wasn’t because he needed space. Of why he was becoming hungry for demon blood. Because he wanted to feed off of you. And, without fighting it, you let him.

Footsteps coming up from the basements stairs made you flinch, knowing well enough of who it was going to be. You watched as Dean came up from hearing his brother go through withdrawal. It was painful the first time, but this…this was the real deal. All of you had to endure the entire process through. Withdrawing from demon blood can be nasty. Sam had to go through all the dizzy spells, hot flashes and chills, even those nasty little hallucination that crossed the poor man’s mind. All of this was happening because of you. You did did it to him.

Dean passed by the library. While you felt tempted to call out to him and apologize, the words remained at the tip of your tongue. They felt so wrong to say right “Sorry.” Sorry for what? Sorry for making your baby brother relapse. Sorry for crushing all your hopes for a better tomorrow. Sorry, for being the one who is supposed to be your better half, fail you miserably.

You quickly wiped away a tear when you felt it roll down your cheek. The boys have done their worst deeds against one another. Dean tortured souls in Hell because of all his unhappiness and unworthy feelings to being alive at the sake of his father. Only he broke the first seal. Sam trusted Ruby and drank demon blood because thought it was the right thing to do. Turns out, he set Lucifer free without realizing the demon’s true motive. You lost yourself in the spell of Famine to see what you were going to become and pumped Sam full of demon blood. Because you thought it would make him stronger. All of you try so hard to do right. But you do the wrong thing every single time. You always do what everyone wants you to. Maybe there is no such thing as free will.

“You look better.” You found yourself jumping out of your skin at the sound of a voice that broke you out of your personal thoughts. You looked away from the floor and to the doorway. The heaviness sitting in your chest only becomes worse when you see that it’s Dean. You notice right away he was still in his clothes, a half empty liquor bottle hung loose in his grip as he leaned against the door frame. You kept yourself quiet, afraid you might say the wrong thing. But Dean keeps talking, wanting only to keep himself occupied. “You’ve been in and out for the past few days. You lost a lot of blood. Cas said you should be okay.”

“Dean,” You couldn’t help yourself when you went out right with it, the guilt too much for you to bare anymore. “I’m so sor—”

“It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” Dean cut you off, saying four words that didn’t make you feel any better. You stared at him with eyes glazed over as a hardening expression set across your face, wondering why he was doing this. He acted like this was his doing. Maybe it was the liquor he’d been drinking over the past few days, but his lips were loose, he spoke a secret that he didn’t want to keep to himself anymore. “I failed you and Sammy. Like I always do. Maybe that son of a bitch is right.

“Who was right?” You cautiously asked him, you sniffled a few times, trying to compose yourself for what he was about to tell you.

"You were right. I’ve been keeping something from you since we got back. I didn’t want to tell you. But I don’t have a choice now, do I?“ Dean let out a soft chuckle, but the pain in his eyes told a much different story. As the smile started to drift off his face, you could see the pain starting to settle in his face from what he was about to say. "Michael and I had a talk. He told me a few things. Went on about this woman named Katerina. She was some woman he loved. Didn’t think much of it, that was, until he told me more about her. He said that he tried to keep her safe from his brother. And…And he couldn’t. She went dark side.”

You furrowed your brow in slight confusion, all though you didn’t want to, you forced yourself to ask the question that started to burn in the back of your head. “Did she…”

"Lucifer turned her into a demon. The first demon created, turns out. She ran off with him, and never looked back. Michael tried to save her…but he couldn’t protect the woman he loved. Not even his little brother.” Dean admitted everything about the story that the angel had told him to you. “Want to know why I got so pissed when Cupid told us we were soulmates, sweetheart? It’s not because I’m ashamed of you. Damn it, I love you. I do. I always have. Ever since we were little kids. And that’s never going to change. No matter what happens between us.” You watched as he walked into the library until he was hovering over you. He tried his hardest not to feel anything. But you could see the pain in fear in his eyes. He reached out his free hand, and ever so lightly, brushed a tear that escaped. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N.”

Dean left you alone with your own personal thoughts. He mumbled something about needing some air from everything that was going on. Maybe Famine was right when he said he was dead inside. He was, for a while. Dean felt a comfort with things. He didn’t need his usual crutches to get him through the day. There were no thoughts crushing him. He felt nothing. Until…that night in the diner when he’d seen the truth.

That was his moment of facing the future straight in the eyes. There was no more running, no more denying. All of it was possibility.

The man walked through the junkyard with his thoughts and a half empty liquor bottle as his only company. For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester felt lost. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t keep the people he loved, his only family, safe anymore. Dean was at a crossroads when he thought about you. What if he tried breaking up with you? Push you so far away from this disaster you wouldn’t get hurt. But that would risk the chance of hating him and running into the arms of the enemy. Dean could try his hardest to keep you close and safe as possible. What if that wasn’t good enough? He loved you, every single inch of you, there wasn’t anything he would change about you. And the soul crushing reason why a man like him, a screwed up disaster, had someone like you in his life was because you were playing the part like his mother. Poor Mary. She was the nightmare fuel his father needed to get him and his brother out on the road and started hunting. Just like you were going to be if Lucifer got his hands on you.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. His brother, his baby brother who he had practically raised, who always tried to do good and see things in a better light, might die at the hands of him. Because it was the right thing to do. Because it was what God commanded. Fathers are supposed to know what’s best. How was any of this right? How could God sit back and watch this happen?

He wants to feel numb. He wants to be dead inside. But he can’t. Not anymore. Not after what he’d seen.

Dean found himself stopping in his tracks near the Impala. The keys felt heavy in his back pocket as the idea of running from his problems crossed his mind. But he knew that there wasn’t enough space in this world to distant him from everything. Dean looked down at the bottle, contemplating if he should take another drink, he decided against it, knowing his old vices wouldn’t help him tonight. He poked his tongue between his teeth as his eyes glanced up to the cloudy night sky.

He couldn’t keep it together anymore. He could feel tears starting to fill his eyes as he stared off into the miles above him, hoping that this little human, the one who was just a vessel for His son, would take the chance just to listen. Just for one simple second.

“Please…I can’t,” Dean found himself flooded with all his fears and anxiety just like that. The wall inside his went crumbling down, presenting himself fully to the big man upstairs. People say that God gives one that they can handle. And in times of distress, pray. “I can’t do this. Please?”

Dean Winchester, the man who thought he could face just about anything, couldn’t. He couldn’t even get God himself out from his hiding place. How was he going to try and holding off Michael or stopping the apocalypse? Maybe they were right about all of this. Maybe there is no such thing as free will or true love. Perhaps we’re all just on this planet to play a part until we die. And there was nothing anybody could do about it.


	15. Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid.

It’d been two weeks since you and the boys departed from Bobby Singer’s house after No matter what, Bobby was always there when you needed him. He’d welcome the three of you back when Sam was strung out of his head from demon blood and you gotten yourself knocking on death’s door after losing most of your blood in your body, along with going a few rounds with two demons. Bobby didn’t say anything. He let you use what you needed to get back to normal and hit the road where you had spotted a case just a few states over to occupy your time. Nobody had said anything what happened. You kept on going like nothing was wrong, like always. 

You got back into town yesterday when you noticed some strange activity was going on in your very own Sioux Falls. It seemed there might have been a possible zombie case from a person’s eye witness they gave to the police. And it wasn’t everyday someone someone decided to rise from the dead and kill a random townsfolk.

“Bobby, listen,” You stepped out from the backseat of the Impala with one hand pushing open the door as the other held your cell phone to your ear as you tried to contact a hunter who shouldn’t have been hard to contact. During these stressful and trying times, he should know to keep his damn phone on him. “When you get this message, or the other five I left you, call me!”

You let out a frustrated sigh as you ended the call before shoving your phone back into the pocket in your skirt. Slamming the door shut behind you, you looked at the diner ahead of you, growing a bit happy that another case had fallen into your lap to help keep your mind off things. “Is he still not home?” You turned your gaze away from the diner’s sign to Dean, who was growing a bit worried himself at Bobby’s lack of communication with all of you. You shrugged your shoulders and followed behind the boys as they headed for the entrance. “How far could he get in that chair?”

Apparently pretty far, you thought to yourself. You mumbled a thank you when Sam held the door open for you as you quickly slipped inside the heated place that felt glorious compared to outside that was freezing with winter still sticking around. You crossed your arms over your chest as an attempt to get warmer and looked around the small diner, taking notice outside that it started to lightly snow. “So, what do we do now?” Sam asked you and his brother.

“Well, guess we just do it ourselves.” Dean said, nodding his head in the direction to the back of the diner when he spotted the witness who claimed he saw a dead man walking. The three of you walked over and introduced yourselves, giving him the usual speech before you got yourself comfortable in the booth with Dean, leaving Sam to pull up a chair. “Mr. Wells, why don’t you tell us what you saw—in your own words.”

“Call me Digger.” He said, you let out a bit of a chuckle from the unusual nickname. From his scruffy looking appearance, it worked on him, but it made him curious as to who exactly gave him the nickname in the first place and the story behind it. Most nicknames do. Dean liked to call you Nancy Drew for your research skills, and how you always poked your nose in things where it didn’t belong. And you called Sam Sasquatch for his giant frame that towered over most people, yourself included. But it seemed there really wasn’t much of an explanation behind the clever nickname. “I did.”

“You gave yourself your own nickname?” Dean asked, trying his hardest to be polite about what he was hearing. You rolled your eyes from what he said next, seeming to feel the need to tell the man about what he thought was a bit weird. “You can’t do that.”

Digger gave the man a dirty look, “Who died and made you queen?”

“Okay. Uh,” You jumped into the conversation before things could escalate into an argument when Dean found the man’s origin of his nickname unnatural and stray away from the reason why all of you were here in the first place. “Why don’t you tell us what you saw.”

“I saw Clay Thompson climb into Benny Sutton’s trailer through the window.” Digger explained the story that he’d given the police. “Couple minutes later, Clay walked out, and Benny’s dead.”

“And. Uh,” Dean reached inside the pocket of his suit jacket to pull out the photocopy of the driver’s license that you found of the murder suspect to show Digger. “Is this the guy you saw?”

“Well, he was all covered in mud, but, yeah.” Digger said. “That’s Clay.”

“And you are aware that Clay Thompson died five years ago?” Sam asked.

“Yep.” Digger answered, seeming sure of himself of what he’d seen that night.

“And you’re positive that it was this guy?” You asked yet again for clarification, pointing to the face in the licence photo. Digger looked at you with narrowing eyes, wondering if you were accusing him of lying, you raised a brow at him in curiosity. “You tell me, buddy. Can you think of any reason why Clay Thompson—alive or dead—would want to kill Benny Sutton?”

“Hell, yeah. Five years ago, Benny’s the one that killed Clay in the first place. It was a so-called ‘hunting accident.’ Now, if you ask me, Clay came back from the grave to get a little payback.” Digger’s story seemed legit enough for you to be interested in hearing more about what he could give you. And while he seemed all for telling more, the man looked away from you to someone from the front of the diner, locking eyes with a familiar face. His smile slowly drifted off his face as he let out a faint sigh, almost seeming disappointed at who he saw coming forward to the table without your knowledge. “Heads up. ‘Fargo.’”

“Digger.” You looked over your shoulder slightly when you heard a female voice come from behind. You noticed right away from her uniform that she was an officer, a sheriff from Digger’s greeting as he attempted to keep his focus solely on the table. You gave the woman a polite smile as she looked the three of you over, a bit curious to see who all of you were. “I’m sheriff Jody Mills. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

“I’m Agent Dorfman, these are my partners Agent Knox,” Dean introduced the three of you as he pulled out his own badge to show the sheriff first as you followed after. He nodded his head to you before pointing a finger at his little brother. “And that’s Agent Niedermeyer. FBI.”

“Welcome to Sioux Falls.” Jody greeted the three of you with a warm welcome, but it seemed that wasn’t the reason why she paid a visit here. She stuffed her hands into her jacket and gave all of you a bit of a curious look. “Can I ask you what you’re doing with Digger here?”

“Well, they’re doing’ their job.” Digger remarked. “They believe me, sheriff.”

Jody gave the man a bit of a smirk from his sarcasm that she thought was the least bit amusing. She looked away from him and to the three people she didn’t know just yet were the real feds. But a woman like Jody seemed like not much could pass by her from the question she asked. “The FBI believes a dead man committed a murder?”

“Look, we’re just asking a few questions here, sheriff.” Sam defended himself as he tried to give the woman a polite smile, hoping that be’d enough for her to leave all of you alone. “That’s all.”

“Of course, if a dead man didn’t commit the murder, then who did?” Dean asked the sheriff with a bit of a sarcastic bite in his tone. The man didn’t particularly handle authority well, and it seemed from the look on Jody’s face, she didn’t like it when people talked to her in that tone.

“What’d you say your jurisdiction here was again?” Jody questioned the man.

“Our jurisdiction is wherever the United States Government sends us.” Dean answered for her.

“Oh. Yeah. How 'bout me and your supervisor have a little chat about that?” Jody asked, deciding she had enough of this fooling around. Sam happily gave her the bogus card with the number that would only lead back to Bobby, who always was the one who fixed things like this. That is, if he was home. Jody busied herself by punching in the number and waited for someone to answer, and to your surprise, she gotten an answer. “Agent Willis, this is sheriff Jody Mills—Bobby?” But it seemed your luck had ran right when the man answered the phone. You should have expected a small town like this, people might recognize each other. You bit the inside of your cheek as the man tried his hardest to lie, but Jody was one sneaky woman. “Is this Bobby Singer…Bull crap.”

“So, uh,” You tried to strike up a conversation with the woman as Sam awkwardly grabbed the business card back from Jody as he slipped it back into his wallet for safekeeping. “So you know Bobby Singer? That is…a fun coincidence.”

“Here’s what I know about Bobby Singer.” Jody said, crossing her arms over her chest as your smile began to slowly fade from the things you were about to hear. “He’s a menace around here—ass-full of drunk-and-disorderlies and mail fraud. You understanding me?”

“I think we all can agree that you’ve made yourself perfectly clear, yes.” You agreed with what the sheriff had said, trying your hardest not to get the three of you anymore in trouble.

“So, whatever the four of you are planning, it ends here—now.” Jody ordered. You looked away from her when she made her point even clear by looking all of you straight in the eye. “Ten four on that, agents?”

You simply nodded your head to the woman when you looked up just in time to look at her straight in the eye and see the threatening glare she was giving the three of you. She tossed one over to Digger before making her way out, seeming satisfied with the point she driven home. You looked over at the boys and shook your head from the way they handled the situation, as if it was their fault that you had gotten your ass handed to you by the sheriff.

\+ + +

“You know how many times we called? Where have you been?”

When you had gotten clear evidence that Bobby was back at his house thanks to Jody Mills, you and the boys didn’t waste a second in heading back over there. You followed behind him as you asked him repeatedly to figure out why he’d been dodging your calls all day. Bobby replied with yet another sarcastic answer, causing you to roll your eyes in frustration. You inhaled a deep breath from the lack of answers you were getting from him, while you were expecting to smell the usual scents that graced the Singer household, you were thrown off when you gotten hints of something that you’ve never had before here. And come to think of it, you looked around the library, taking notice that the place was completely spotless. No papers were out of sight, all the books seemed to have been neatly placed, and there wasn’t the usual thick layer of dust that always caused your allergies to act up.

“What’s that smell?” You asked yourself, taking yet another whiff to see if you could identify it from your memory. “Is that soap? Did you clean?”

“What are you, my mother?”

"Excuse me, you grumpy old man—”

“Bite me!” Bobby seemed to be full of emotions today when he lashed out at you. You narrowed your eyes on the man, wondering if he wanted to try again with his remarks. Sam, however, tried to regain control of the conversation when he spoke the man’s name in a serious tone before an argument could break. “I’ve been working. You know, trying to find a way to stop the devil.”

“Find anything?” Dean asked, trying to be helpful.

Bobby looked at the man, “What do you think?”

“Bobby, it’s just there’s a case less than five miles from your house.” Sam said, letting out a quiet chuckle as he walked over to the small table in the middle of the library to lean against it.

“What, the Benny Sutton thing? That’s what this is about?” Bobby asked the three of you. It seemed that the man was one step ahead of you. You looked at him with a bit of confusion and asked him if he knew about this already. “Hell, yes. I checked into it already. There’s nothing here.”

“Except a witness who saw a dead guy commit a murder.” Sam pointed out a small fact that the man might have forgotten, and it was the reason why you even looked into it in the first place.

“What witness? Digger Wells?” Bobby wondered if that’s what you were talking about. Dean was the one who nodded his head, wondering why the man didn’t sound so intrigued to see what he had to say. “So, he’s a drunk.”

“Well, what about the lightening storms?” You asked. “They look like omens.”

“Except in February in South Dakota in storm season.” Bobby said. You didn’t know why, but you felt confident enough that this might have been another case for you. But it seemed that Bobby was the unfortunate one to burst that bubble. “Guys, I thought it was something, too. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

“So who killed the guy?” You wondered.

“Take your pick. This Benny Sutton guy was a grade-a son of a bitch. There’s a list of the living a year long who wouldn’t mind putting a cap in his ass.” Bobby explained the situation a little bit more to all of you.

“So, you’re telling us…nothing?” Dean asked, as if he was playing it safe.

“Sorry.” Bobby apologized, shrugging his shoulders at the lack of things he could do more for the three of you. “Looks like you wasted a tank of gas on this one.”

\+ + +

You and the boys headed out of town later that night, deciding that Bobby was right, there really wasn’t much concrete evidence to prove there was something supernatural going on here. You were a bit disappointed at how the situation turned out. Part of you wanted something to work on, other than the massive agonizing struggle of the apocalypse that loomed over your head like a dark rain cloud. And the other half of you wondered, for whatever reason why, Bobby was lying to you. Why would he? In all the years you’d known the man, Bobby was the kind of hunter who shot first and asked questions later. And…he wasn’t that particular about how his house was kept. And you’d never seen him without that trucker hat of his. Not to mention, the man had put some effort into how he looked yesterday. Perhaps Bobby had a lady friend he was interested in, that’s why he went all this way to clean himself up. But Bobby didn’t seem like he enjoyed anyone’s company lately, he seemed to enjoy his time alone.

Maybe you were thinking too much about this situation, but it seemed you weren’t the only one with a strange feeling about this. You knew the way out of Sioux Falls like the back of your hand, but the route that Dean was taking was way off. You turned your head slightly to look out the backseat window to see the sign for St. Anthony’s cemetery pass by your view before disappearing behind you. Furrowing you brow in confusion, it only took you a moment to realize that Dean was heading into the cemetery to take a second look for himself. He parked the Impala against the side of the road and shut off the engine, Sam took notice a moment later, but didn’t quite guess of what his brother was up to.

“Isn’t that the graveyard back there?” Dean asked, looking over his shoulder slightly to stare at the sign again to see if he was correct.

“Yeah. So what?” Sam wondered. “Bobby already checked it out.”

“And, what? Bobby’s never wrong?” Dean pestered his little brother with a few sarcastic asks of his own. Sam gave the man a bit of an annoyed glare from what he was being dragged into when Bobby had given his word. “Come on. We’ll take a peek, and then we’ll hit the road.”

You didn’t disagree with the plan that Dean had decided to strike up, you were a bit curious yourself to see what was going on here. You and the boys headed out into the cold night with a couple of shovels and flashlights to help navigate the grounds a bit easier. You wrapped one arm around your body to try and block out the cold temperatures as you began looking at tombstones, wondering which one was the particular name you were looking for. You looked at a few names as Sam trailed off in front of you and Dean casually strolled around, whistling quietly to himself. It took only a few minutes of looking before you spotted Clay’s grave. And from the texture of the grass, it seemed pretty fresh looking. Not something you would see in a grave that was buried a little over five years ago.

The boys did the honor of shoveling up the grave, you stayed back and kept guard. Soon it was just Sam in the grave as Dean was crouched on the ground, watching as his brother shoveled a few more scoops of dirt before coming across a coffin that didn’t look like most. You peered down to see that someone had busted it up pretty good, leaving you with the impression that a person might have attempted to dig up a corpse and break the coffin up. Or someone managed to pull an Uma Thurman and crawl their way out from the ground. It took a bit of an effort from Sam until he managed to open up the top. You should have seen something that resembled a skeletal remain of Clay Thompson. Instead, you stared into an empty coffin.

“I’ll be damned.” You muttered underneath your breath. “That son of a bitch lied to us.”

“What is going on here?” Sam asked, not needing anymore proof to know there was in fact a dead body roaming around town.

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “But something stinks.”

Your nose wrinkled slightly, hoping someone this Clay was returned to his normal self. You’d only dealt with a zombie case once, and the woman’s body was still warm when she was exhumed by a guy who wanted to kindle a romance with deadly consequences. She went off the deep end and killed her cheating ex boyfriend that lead to her death in the first place and then after her friend who was the one keep the man’s bed warm. You had a feeling there might be a second repeat of this kind of behavior if you weren’t too careful. First it would start with getting revenge on the person who killed him, and then Clay could move on to just about anybody in town that even looked at him wrong. The more time that you let pass, the more rabid he would become. It was one of the effects of becoming a zombie.

\+ + +

Clay Thompson’s house felt like an appropriate next stop. Dean spent a moment unlocking the door before granting you access, all of you headed inside quietly as you could to take a look around the place. While the man might have been dead for the past five years, it seemed that his wife hadn’t gathered the courage yet to take down the pictures. You wandered around the place and stepped inside to what appeared to be the living room. Your flashlight went over to the fireplace to see there was an array of photos on the mantel. A few of the couple happily together and one of their baby, who at least had to be at least older than six from how long Clay had been gone. But nothing screamed murderous zombie to you. So, you kept looking.

You continued on your way through the house, soon finding yourself in what appeared to be the family room from what kind of furniture you spotted around the room. A couch was on one side with a few different types of framed artwork hanging up on the wall. What caught your attention was a desk pushed up against the wall. Most of the contents that you spotted were just an open planner and a few bills lying around, nothing of much interest. As you turned around in your spot to find something more interesting to discover, it seemed you had perfect timing tonight.

All you took notice of at first was a blurry figure, but then your brain remembered that one little thing, about how you were breaking into someone’s house, and the owner might get a little bit angry. Before your head could be smashed in with a baseball bat, you managed to duck when the stranger swung at you, taking aim at a picture frame from the sounds of glass breaking. Before they could recover, you managed to be quick enough by swinging your arm back and throwing a punch directly into the person’s gut, knocking the wind out of them and making them stumble to their feet. You stood up straighter and waited a second to hit them again after you heard the baseball clatter to the ground. Sam noticed the ambush and quickly aimed the shotgun at the stranger as Dean pointed the flashlight to see who your attacker was. Down on his knees, it seemed that Clay Thompson wasn’t a skeleton or a decomposing body, that was for sure.

“Don’t shoot! Please!” Clay pleaded for his life as he covered his arms with his face, afraid you might try and punch him again. But you stood over him, a bit perplexed with what was going on here. “There’s money in the safe.”

“We don’t want your money.” Dean reassured the man.

“What do you want?” He asked, still a bit fearful as he lifted his head up slightly to make eye contact with the three of you for just a moment. But it gave you enough time to inspect his appearance when it wasn’t what you were expecting. You noticed that he was far paler from his licence or the photos around his home. And the bags underneath his eyes were a bit frightening. He looked undead. “Anything. Please.”

“You’re Clay Thompson, right?” You asked, just to be more on the safer side here. Maybe Mrs. Thompson had remarried to someone that looked a bit familiar to her husband as some sort of comfort thing, the possibilities with hunting, and life in general, were endless.

“Who are you?” Clay asked, seeming a bit more comfortable with looking at what he thought were intruders straight in the eye now that he realized you knew his name. He still appeared a bit guarded, wondering himself of what was going on, and why you were standing in his house with a loaded shotgun at him.

“Um,” Sam cleared his throat, deciding to go with the same angle as earlier today, despite the warning the sheriff had given you when she called your bluff. “FBI.”

“FBI? Oh, my God. This is about Benny.” Clay mumbled, making you a bit more confused when you asked him what he was talking about yet another dead guy. “He killed me! He shot me in the back! I’m supposed to let him get away with that?”

“Hold up. Are—are you confessing?” You asked him, wondering if this was really happening.

“Please. I’ll go with you. Just—Just don’t wake my kids.” Clay was making your job awfully easy tonight. You furrowed your brow as you looked away from the dead man and to the boys, wondering if this was really happening. The brothers seemed a bit confused themselves at what was going on here. You looked over at Clay, and a bit slowly, you asked him where he exactly meant you were going to take him. “Jail.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re Clay Thompson and you died five years ago?” You asked the man, Clay answered with a yes. “And three days ago you climbed out of your grave, and you killed Benny Sutton? So you are, in fact, a dead guy who committed a murder on someone who happened to have killed you. This is very…code of Hammurabi here.”

“What? I guess.” Clay said, seeming a bit overwhelmed himself from what you were saying. “I don’t know what I am.”

"Clay?” You quickly looked over to the other side of the room when you heard a female voice break up the conversation the four of you were having. You noticed right away it was Mrs. Thompson, she seemed a bit unsure of what was going on as she came prepared with a bit of unsettling news from what she did. “I called 911.”

“It’s okay, honey. These people are the FBI.” Clay reassured his wife when he noticed she was a bit nervous from the scene alone of three strangers and a gun. “They’re here about Benny.”

“Why don’t you come with us, Mr. Thompson?” Dean asked. “I think they’d be best.”

Clay didn’t seem to mind the plan one bit, as he still believed you were the authorities. You had to work quick before the real cops could get here and bust your plan. But you gave the man a few moments to put on some pants and a jacket before you embarked into the cold winter night and somewhere a bit more secluded to figure out what was going on. Clay lead the way down the porch steps as he began heading for the Impala after you instructed him to. Sam followed behind the man as you walked in sync with Dean, who thought the loaded shotgun his brother was carrying didn’t seem to be enough. You looked over in his direction at the right time to see him pull out his own gun from his jacket. Before he could do something stupid, you hissed his name as you lowered the gun out of the other man’s direction.

“He’s a monster, Y/N.” Dean whispered to you.

You scoffed at his analogy for the man, “He’s a soccer dad, at best.” 

“What do you want to do with him?” He asked you, but you didn’t get to answer his question.

“Freeze!” Your eyesight was quickly blinded by a light being flashed directly in your vision, catching you off guard. You didn’t need to hear the voice again to realize it was sheriff Jody Mills, and without having to hear her warning for the second time, you drew your hands up in defeat to show that you were empty handed. “Drop your weapons!”

“All right. Hey. Remember the guy you said that was dead and couldn’t possibly commit murder? There he is.” Dean said, feeling a bit proud of himself at how he thought that he might have pulled a little told you so to the cops. Jody, however, didn’t seem so convinced when she saw Clay Thompson, a man she had presumed was dead, was standing just several feet away from her. “'And’? And you’re welcome—for catching the undead killer zombie.”

“Whatever he is or isn’t—that don’t give you the right to shoot him in the middle of the street.” Jody said, not seeming to be the one to be persuaded by a story that was true. You rolled your eyes in frustration when she pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and started with you. “You’re free to go, Mr. Thompson.”

“I can’t believe you were gonna kill me.” Clay said, shaking his head at the three of you.

“You’re a zombie!”

“I’m a taxpayer!”

"So am I!” You yelled back at the man, giving him a dirty look as he passed you by at back to his house after he realized the three of you were not what you’d told him. You let in a deep breath as you looked over at the boys, a sour look settled across your face at the situation you were put in. “I hate the both you. You know that, right?”

\+ + +

“So, what? Sheriff in on the take?”

“Yeah. No. The zombies are paying her off?”

You’d been stuck in a small holding cell with the boys for the past few hours, while your butt was beginning to grow numb on the concrete seat, you decided not to participate in the theories of what was going on in Sioux Falls. You leaned against the wall and watched as Sam kept himself busy by slowly pacing around the room as Dean kept you company by taking the rest of the space on the bench. When you heard the possible ideas of what was going on around here, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a laugh, wondering if it was the lack of sleep that you’ve been getting that was making you feel a little bit of character lately. You looked at Sam with your brow arched up in amusement at the thought of Clay, your soccer dad zombie, was slipping some hush money to Jody after coming out from the grave just a few days ago.

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one here, Sammy.” You said with a small smirk spreading across your lips as you leaned forward to adjust yourself in your seat. The numbness growing in your body was starting to grow too uncomfortable to bear. As an officer passed by the cell with some guy being hauled into cuffs, you took a peek inside the busy station when the double doors swung open, and caught a glimpse of a very familiar face talking to Jody. “Hey, look. It’s our knight in a wheelchair.”

“So, what?” Dean asked, catching a glimpse of Bobby. “Now they’re friends?”

You didn’t know what to think, you were just happy that you weren’t going to be stuck in the same confined space with the boys for another second longer. When you made eye contact with Bobby, a smile spread across your lips as you waved at him. After tonight, the man had a bit of explaining to do. Jody, unwillingly, released the three of you back into the public after Bobby had tried to tell her the reasoning about why you were breaking into Clay Thompson’s house in the middle of the night. And there was the whole plot of trying to kill him, again. But you were more curious to figure out why Bobby had lied to you straight in the face.

“Bobby, I thought the sheriff hated you?” Sam asked while he pushed the man’s wheelchair through the busy police station and to somewhere a bit more private so you could have this long overdue conversation to try and figure out what was going on here.

“She did.” Bobby said. “Till five days ago.”

“What happened five days ago?”

“The dead started rising all over town.”

“So you knew about this?” You asked the older man straight out, not wanting to beat around the bush anymore. Bobby just nodded his head. His answer caused you to let out a scoff, and only become even more angrier at his very unusual behavior. “So, what you’re really trying to say is that you lied to us?”

Bobby didn’t seem to like the word analogy that you had used on the situation that was playing out. He took control of the wheelchair and turned himself around so he was now facing you. You crossed your arms over your chest, wanting to hear the reasoning behind all of this. “Look—I told you there was nothing here.” Bobby said, trying to defend himself. Sam cleared his throat as he gave the subtle cue of an officer passing by, lucky for you, the man went on his way without a second glance. Dean mentioned the fact that the people rising from the dead were zombies. But Bobby had seen a few in his days, and this wasn’t it. But it was only making you more confused at why he’d been so hush about this situation. “There’s zombies…and then there’s zombies.”

You gave the man a bit of a confused look at what kind of point that he was trying to make. Bobby, however, rolled his eyes, motioning with the nod of his head for the three of you to follow him. He had something to show you back home.

\+ + +

The four of you arrived back at Bobby’s house with just a few hours until dawn. While you were in the mood to figure out what was going on before the sun rose, Bobby fulfilled his promise of telling you what was going on. You followed him through the home as the man tossed off his hat to a random shelf he’d passed by, you took notice of all the books that were neatly stacked into a few separate piles, all perfect heights. Dean asked the man if he could tell all of you of what was going on here, you gotten the answer to why Bobby had been so apprehensive about telling you the truth in the first place. You watched as a woman stepped out from the kitchen and to the dining room that was set up with a few nice looking china plates. She greeted Bobby with a warm smile as she placed down more dishware.

“Oh, hey.” She greeted Bobby with a warm smile as she placed down more dishware. While she had looked at you and the boys with a quick look over, she found herself looking at the strange faces with a bit of surprise. You found yourself staring back at her with a confused expression of your own. “I didn’t realize you were bringing company.”

“It’s four a.m., babe.” Bobby said. He gave the woman a smile from her generosity. “You didn’t need to cook.”

“Oh, please.” She said, waving her hand at the minor inconvenience. “I’ll get some more plates.”

You gave the woman a smile when you made eye contact with her again, not wanting to come off as rude when she disappeared into the kitchen. The first thing you wondered was if Bobby had suddenly found himself in a relationship, and why she was so pale. Sort of like how Clay looked when you first met him. “Bobby,” You looked over at the man, suspicion starting to rise in your tone from what you were about to him ask him next. “Who was that?”

“Karen.” Bobby answered. “My wife.”

“Please…” You let out a deep breath from what was going on here. “Your new wife?”

Bobby corrected you, “My dead wife.”

\+ + +

Karen Singer, the woman who started it all. You sat at the head of the table with the boys sitting at each side, leaving Bobby to sit at the opposite end of you. You found yourself eyeing him every so often, when you weren’t making small conversations with his wife, giving her compliments on the food and thanking her for her hospitality. Little did she know that you’d met a different version of her a while back, in Bobby’s nightmares. Everyone had to start somewhere when it came to hunting, Karen was that reason. She was possessed by a demon, but at the time, Bobby didn’t know about the supernatural. He accidentally killed his wife to keep himself alive. And here she was, so many decades later, serving the four of you coffee and apple pie at six in the morning. You gave her another smile when she passed you by.

“This is incredible, Mrs. Singer.” Dean, who had gone through at least two slices of pie, was in blissfulness at the homemade dessert. Karen thanked him with a smile as she served her husband with yet another slice of his own. You shifted your gaze over to the man and quietly cleared your throat, catching his attention as you gave him a look to cut it out. “What, Y/N? It is.”

“It’s great, Karen. Thanks.” Bobby said as he gave his wife a smile. “Could you, um, just give us a minute?”

Karen nodded her head in agreement as she looked away from her husband to the rest of you three, she gave all of you a smile before returning back to the kitchen, giving you a bit of privacy. She left the sliding doors a bit ajared, but from your view of the kitchen, she wandered away to complete a task, giving you confidence she wasn’t about to hear the four of you talk about her. Pushing away your untouched food, you stared at the man sitting right across from you, the sour look that hadn’t really left your face returned once more.

“Are you crazy?” You questioned the man as you leaned forward in your chair. “What the hell?”

“Y/N, I can explain.” Bobby said, hoping you would give him a chance to defend himself.

“Explain what? Lying to us?” Dean jumped into the conversation, wanting to express his own frustrations to the man from how much danger he was putting himself through. “Or the American girl zombie baking cupcakes in your kitchen?!”

“First of all, that’s my wife, so watch it.” Bobby warned the younger man, not exactly happy with the kind of talk Dean was using on the woman from the look that started to settle in his face.

“Bobby, whatever that thing is in there, it is not your wife.” Sam corrected the man, as if that little known fact about her wasn’t easy enough to understand. Bobby, however, looked at the younger Winchester and asked him flat out about how he could know that. You rolled your eyes and sat back in your seat again. “Are you serious?”

“You think I’m an idiot, boy? My dead wife shows up on my doorstep, I’m not gonna test her every way I ever learned?” Bobby asked, showing the three of you that he wasn’t getting senile in his older years. You let out a sigh and admitted your wronging here. You asked him if what you were dealing with could be zombies or possible revenants. But the man was clueless as all of you were about what was going on here. “Hell if I can tell. She’s got no scars, no wounds, no reaction to salt, silver, holy water.”

“Bobby, she crawled out of her coffin.” Dean said.

“No, she didn’t. I cremated her.” Bobby corrected the man. “Somehow, some way, she’s back.”

“That’s impossible.” Sam mumbled when he saw Karen walking pass by the doorway. There was no way a human body, that was just ashes, could come back from the dead without a single scar on their body. And you highly doubted there was a demon around here luring people into selling their souls to see a loved one come back from the dead after all this time.

“You bury her ashes?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Yeah. In the cemetery. That’s where they all rose from. I think there was about fifteen, twenty from the last time I counted.” Bobby said. He pulled out a folded up piece of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it over to Sam’s awaiting hand. “Uh, there’s Karen, Clay, Sheriff Mills—her little boy came back.”

“Well, that explains the third degree she gave us.” You said. She wasn’t being paid off, she was protecting her own child that she had lost before, no wonder she gotten so angry when you tried to snoop your nose more into this. She was afraid her son might face the same danger as Clay was about to. “And you sure there wasn’t any signs? No omens?”

“Well, there were the lightening storms.” Bobby slipped into the conversation. You threw your hands up into the air from what he told you before they landed back down to the table, making the silverware clank against the dishes. You looked at the man from across the way and asked him what else there was that he wanted to tell you. Bobby decided to cooperate for once. You watched as he wheeled himself away from the table and to a small desk just across the room with a heavy looking book he’d marked. He opened it up and began reading a passage. “‘And through the fire stood before me a pale horse. And he that sat atop of him carried a scythe, and I saw since he had risen, they, too, shall rise. And from him and through him.’”

“So, what, Death is behind all of this? Like ‘Grim Reaper’ death?” You found yourself asking the unfortunate question, Bobby nodded his head. “Well, good to know that all of Lucifer’s hard work of slaughtering an entire town paid off.”

“Awesome. Another horseman.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He elbow rested on the top of the chair as he began rubbing his forehead, feeling a headache starting to form from how yet another challenge dropped into your lap. All of you had just defeated Famine not too long ago, now it was Death’s turn. He couldn’t wait to see what was going to come of this. “Must be Thursday.”

“Bobby,” Sam pushed himself to his feet and headed over to the book that the hunter had been previously looking at to take a look at the bible passage again. “Why would Death raise fifteen people in a podunk down like Sioux Falls?”

“You know, if Death is behind this, then whatever these things are…it’s not good.” Dean said, not exactly happy to be the one to ruin a happy occasion, but there was always consequences. He couldn’t risk the chance of letting something happen to Bobby. “You know what we have to do here.”

“She doesn’t remember anything, you know. Being possessed. Me killing her…her coming back.” Bobby said, trying his hardest to get the man to change his mind from jumping the gun here. Your expression softened slightly as you spoke his name, trying to somehow make him understand that things weren’t going to end up well. But the man didn’t want to hear it. “No, no, don’t ‘Bobby’ me. Just listen, okay?”

All of you fell silent, wondering what the man was trying to make you hear, you furrowed your brow slightly. You heard it. Soft humming echoed from the kitchen as you heard Karen move around pots and plates, lost in her own blissful feeling of being home again. You moved your gaze to the table when Bobby spoke up again after a moment of silence. If this was tough for you, the man was trying his hardest to get all of you to change your mind for just a little while, hopeful this wasn’t going to turn south like all of you feared. Bobby wanted to show you that his wife, despite seeming to come out from thin air, was still human.

“She hums when she cooks. Yeah. She always…used to hum when she cooked. Tone deaf as hell, but…And I never thought I would hear it again.” Bobby admitted after he found himself silent by his own words that were leaving him in a wave of different emotions. It was a bittersweet situation for him, and out of anyone in this world, you should have been the one to try and defend Bobby. But you knew the boys were right. Nothing good came out of this. You were the perfect example. Yet, Bobby wasn’t ready to give up the fight so easily. “Look, just read Revelation. The—The dead rise during the apocalypse. There’s nothing in there that says that’s bad! Hell, maybe it’s the one good thing that comes out of this whole bloody mess.”

“And what would you do if you were us?” Dean asked a simple question, but the answer wasn’t too easy to speak. You crossed your arms over your chest when Bobby stared at the three of you, silently pleading for a little bit longer with his wife, who stood in the middle of the kitchen and continued on baking, oblivious to what was going on.

“I know what I’d do. And I know what you think I got to do. But,” Bobby couldn’t get himself to agree to hurting his wife all over again when he’d gotten her back for just a short amount of time. There was so much grief and guilt he never got to work through. “I’m begging you. Please. Please. Leave her be.” 

In all of your years of knowing Bobby, you’d never seen him more in a vulnerable state than you did right now. You could see just in his eyes of how much he would do anything to keep his wife from being take away from him. She was the reason why he started hunting in the first place after she died at the hands of him. He just wanted to keep her safe. He’d done so much for the three of you. And maybe he was right about this. Maybe these supposed zombies weren’t so bad, after all.

\+ + +

Doing the right thing wasn’t always so easy, but you did it anyway. Some hunts made you swallow whatever sort of empathy you had to save the day. There were a few rough cases that didn’t exactly end in the way that you wanted them to. You rested your elbow on the diner’s counter top as you absentmindedly stirred your cup of coffee after adding another packet of sugar. There was a case with a woman named Madison, a woman that Sam had fell for in a matter of a few days, who ended up meeting a fatal end when it turned out she was the monster. Then there was another hunt about a guy who was slowly turning into a flesh eating monster, you tried your hardest to stop him, only it ended with another fatal end. Not to mention, the things you had done not too long ago. Bobby didn’t say anything about trying to find a way to end your life after what you did. He opened his door and helped anyway that he could.

“So,” You sat up straighter in your seat and dropped your soon to the paper napkin, letting it absorb any sort of coffee that remained. “What do you guys think?”

“There’s nothing to think about, Y/N.” Dean said, seeming to have his mind made up about what the right thing to do was here. He saw what looked like a monster, and wanted to go in for the kill before someone he loved could get hurt. “I’m not gonna leave Bobby at home with the bride of Frankenstein.”

“Then what do you want to do?” Sam asked his older brother, curious to see what sort of genius plan he was hatching up. “Just walk in there in front of Bobby and blow her skull off?”

“If she decides that Bobby’s face is the blue plate special, I’d like to be there.” Dean said.

“Fine. Sam and I will see what else we can find out.” You said, giving a compromise that the older Winchester would have to deal with. “Just don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

You took the last sips of your coffee before you slipped out of your seat, letting Dean take care of the bill as he took a ten out of his pocket and left it on the counter. With the list of people that had risen from the dead, you and Sam headed back to the motel before starting your next adventure of knocking door to door, asking people if they had time to talk about the undead. This wasn’t going to be difficult, at all. Not one bit.

\+ + +

You and Sam took off in the early afternoon as a first attempt into seeing these zombies up close and personal. You were curious to see Jody and her little boy up close and personal. While you didn’t know the circumstances about her son’s passing, what you could see was a devoted mother who happily read to her child with her husband by her side. Both of them enjoying a special moment that they probably thought would never happen again. You looked over at Sam with a bit of a guilty conscious of what you might have to do if things could go south. You’d done a lot of bad things to try and save the day. But this…you hoped it would never require taking a mother’s child away. In Jody’s case, she would be losing him all over again.

The both of you started your search with the first person that had been raised from the dead, a woman named Ezra Jones. You looked down at the address on the list that you had made to see that you were in the right place. You headed up to the front door, taking notice about how somebody seemed to have been lacking on keeping up on curbside appeal. You did the honors of knocking on the front door, waiting for someone, anyone, to answer the door. The two of you waited for a moment to see if Ezra was going to show her face around, but you were greeted with more silence. You knocked again and called out the woman’s name, hoping you might catch her attention. As you let out a sigh and dropped your arm back to your side, your eyes drifted away from the door and to the ground. You noticed right away there a few droplets of blood that sparked your suspicion that something was wrong here.

You lightly nudge Sam on the arm to signal the blood that you noticed. It was easy to suspect a bit of foul play was going on here. Sam nodded with his head that he was going around the back to check out the house as you decided to test your luck with the front door. You cautiously looked over your shoulder to see if anyone was around. Nobody seemed to have noticed when you felt the door eased open with a bit of pressure and slipped yourself inside.

“Ezra Jones?” You called out the woman’s name once more when you stepped inside the home, quietly closing the door behind you.

You stood in the hallway for a moment to inspect the clutter that seemed to have found its way here. If you thought the outside looked bad, the inside was worse, even sniffing the air, you took notice that there was a foul smell that caught you off guard. Before you could let out a cough, it seemed that someone beat you to it. You walked deeper into the house as you followed the noise. Speaking the woman’s name once more, you had entered what looked to be the living room, where there was even more junk lying around the place, and the smell got even stronger. You raised your brow slightly as you tried your hardest to maintain a friendly smile when you saw a woman lying on a rusty bed frame with a sheet wrapped around her body. From the sight of her alone, pale skin with open sores, it made you want to run out of here fast as possible. But your feet remained glued to where they were as she let out a harsh cough and weakly waved for you to come forward.

Your face scrunched up slightly as you listened to the woman’s command, slowly, your feet began to walk forward to the bed where Ezra laid. You tested a space that still left you a decent amount away from her, but if she talked loud enough, you would be able to hear her. Still, she coughed, and waved her bony fingers at you. Where the hell was Sam when you needed him?

“W-What is it?” You politely asked her, wondering if she could somehow find her voice, and not gag on her own saliva as she used all her strength to keep ushering you forward. “You think maybe you could tell me from here?”

Ezra was quite a persistent woman. She kept coughing and trying her hardest to get you to come forward, it seemed whatever the woman needed to say, she desperately needed to get it off her chest. You were going to regret this. You gave the woman a smile as you began to slowly move forward to her like she wanted. Ezra began to let out more softer coughs as you were now in her space, and you sure took notice of how she accidentally began to choke on her own spit as it began coming out from her mouth. You bent down to her level, you turned your head slightly so your ear was directly in front of her mouth so she could speak whatever she was so desperate to get off her chest. You winced in discomfort when you felt her hot breath tickle your skin. As you waited for her to speak, she let out a few grunts that weren’t coherent. But the sudden scream that escaped her throat was easy enough for you to understand.

Before you realized what was going on, you felt yourself being roughly shoved across the way, and landing on your backside. Ezra sure wasn’t a feeble woman from what she was capable of. You looked slightly upwards to see that she’d been hungry, too. Your eyes widened slightly in horror at the sight of a man that had been long dead from a large size wound in his stomach, from the brief look you gotten, it seemed that someone clawed at the flesh to get a taste. Your head quickly snapped forward when you felt a heavy weight being thrusted upon you without a warning. Luckily you managed to keep Ezra at bay when she started going rabid, fighting her way for a chance to taste human flesh again.

“Sam! Little help!” You managed to say, trying your hardest to keep the old woman from sinking her teeth into your neck.

You fought off the woman best as you could, all while struggling to reach for the weapon you had in the back of your jeans. She might have been old, she might have been undead, but she was one persistent zombie. You grunted as you forced all your weight forward, deciding you couldn’t wait any longer for the younger Winchester to get here. As you felt your fingers reach for the gun, you had found yourself frozen in your spot from what happened next.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You screeched on the top of your lungs, your eyes shutting when you felt something heavy and wet suddenly touch your cheek, all before it began oozing down your skin and into the crook of your neck. You opened one of your eyes slightly to see that Ezra was foaming at the mouth like a rabid infested beast. Before you could let out another unpleasant noise, Sam had finally came to see what was going on.

Ezra stumbled off your body and landed to the ground when Sam drew out his own gun and shot her point blank in the head. You quickly got up to your feet, ignoring the questions from the man when he began asking if you were okay. His concerned face slowly began to disappear when he saw the expression on your face as you tried your hardest to keep whatever kind of gunk that came from the woman’s mouth from touching you again. You looked over to see that he was trying his hardest not to laugh

“What is that?” Sam asked. He walked over to you as he inspected the white residue that you were desperately cleaning odd with the sleeve of your jacket and trying your hardest not to gag.

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” You mumbled, wincing in disgust when you got the last of the stuff off your face. “I just want to get out of here and burn this jacket. Zombies, man. Who knew they were so gross.”

\+ + +

The truth was always a hard thing to say, and another struggle to get yourself to believe in. But it was there. And he was going to have to do what he will with it. You and the boys arrived back at Bobby’s house a little after the sun set with a bit of unsettling news. After you told Dean about the encounter with Ezra Jones, it was all downhill from here. The man was about ready to barge through the front door of the Singer household and blow Karen’s brains out right in front of her husband. You managed to talk him off the ledge and convinced him into at least talking to Bobby to explain what was going on here. You knew it was only going to be a matter of time until Sioux Falls turned into a remake of ‘Night of the Living Dead’ if all of you didn’t put a stop to this.

“Keep your damn voices down.” Bobby warned you, not giving you such a warm welcome when you followed him into the library after telling him you had not so good news. He was more concerned about his wife and hurting her feeling if she happened to overhear something that might offend her. “Karen’s upstairs.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We’re just a little tense right now.” Dean hissed at the man, not in the mood to be on polite terms with the man. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a faint sight, not prepared for the conversation you were about to have with Bobby. “Who’s old lady Jones?”

“The first one to come up.” Bobby answered.

“First one to go bad.” You said.

“Ah, she was always a nutty broad.” Bobby muttered, shrugging off your words.

“Nutty how? Nutty like the way she ate her husband’s stomach out? Or maybe she’s nutty in the sense of she tried to take a bite out of me.”You wondered, raising a brow slightly to drive your point to what was going on here. “Was that the level of nutty she was in life?”

Bobby fell silent for a moment from what you said, “No.” 

“Look, Bobby, I feel for you.” Dean said, trying his hardest to be empathetic to the man the best way that he could while he tried hiding Frankenstein’s monster from the angry crowd. “But you have got to acknowledge that you’re not exactly seeing this straight!”

“Bobby, whether you admit it or not, these things are turning.” Sam said, following Bobby as he began wheeling himself across the room until he was now staring at you again from a farther distance. “We have to stop them—all of them.”

Bobby wasn’t in the mood anymore to hear what you or the boys had to say about this situation. You glanced down when you noticed his hand disappeared underneath his leg, to pull out something that you weren’t expecting to see, as things seemed to have escalated quickly. “Time to go.” He told you simply, not seeming to feel the least bit guilty when he pointed a fully loaded gun in your direction. The boys stiffened in discomfort, not sure of what the man was going to do when his finger hovered over the trigger. You, however, let out what sounded like a chuckle as your lips stretched into a smirk at what he was doing. “You think this is funny, Y/N? You heard me. Off my property.”

“Or what?” You asked him. “You’ll shoot us?”

“If Karen turns, I will handle it—my way.” Bobby said, not leaving the conversation up for discussion again. Dean tried to warn the man about what kind of dangerous situation he was putting himself in, Bobby lifted his finger to cock the gun, giving his response of what he thought about your concern for him. “I’m not telling you twice.”

You stared at Bobby for a moment, wondering if he really was going to do this, and from the deadpan stare he was giving you, the man wasn’t about to bend for his wife. You scoffed from what he was doing. You muttered underneath your breath about how dramatic men could be. He wouldn’t ever shoot you, no matter how much he tried putting on this tough act, but you listened to him anyway. If Bobby wanted to go out like this, being left as a snack for his soon to be rabid wife, fine. Let him. You had an entire town to worry about.

\+ + +

“He’s crazy.”

You and the boys managed to get outside of the property before Dean was speaking once more about his distaste for what Bobby was doing. He was choosing the woman that had died decades ago over the people that he was closest to. The man had practically raised the boys, called all three of you his own children from what he had been through these past handful of years. You were a bit bitter about what Bobby was doing, but you decided to let him simmer down. You had a bit of time until Karen could turn into a Stepford housewife with a taste for human flesh. The man might be in a wheelchair, but it didn’t mean he was powerless. Sam tried to look at the bigger picture right now. There was an entire town that was harboring zombies, just waiting to attack.

“It’s his wife, Dean.” You reminded the older Winchester, knowing too damn well he would have done the same thing if you or Sam were put in that position like Karen was.

“So he goes ’Full Metal Jacket’ on us?” Dean asked, you rolled your eyes from his reaction that was all too like him. “We’re his family, Y/N.”

“Look, man. Bigger fish, okay?” Sam reminded his older brother about what you were dealing with here. “I mean, we got a bunch of zombies about to turn this town into a giant chew toy.”

“Yeah, and he’s alone in the house making pie with one of 'em!” Dean shouted, not being able to keep his frustration hidden any longer. Sam raised his toe slightly, wondering exactly what he was trying to get at here, and how he was going to handle this situation. “So! I’m gonna have to go back there and… and… and kill her. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“If he sees you, you’re a dead man.” You reminded him, trying to poke a hole into his master plan.

“Well, then, I guess I won’t let him see me.” Dean said with a confident tone, as if it was going to be that easy for him.

“Well, I hate to you this to you Sammy, but…you mind going into town on your own? I need to make sure your idiot brother doesn’t get himself killed by the end of the night.” You said. You weren’t happy yourself with how the plan was working out, you furthered your point by looking Dean straight in the eye with an annoyed look. “You’re gonna need some help. Hey, what about the sheriff?”

“Uh,” Sam gave you a confused look from whom you had suggested to be his backup. He wasn’t exactly pleased himself, wanting you to join in on the fun he was about to get into, but he knew his brother, the man didn’t always think logically. “last time I checked, the sheriff was pretty pro-zombie, Y/N.”

“You’re just gonna have to convince her.” You said.

“How?”

“I don’t know. You’re just gonna.”

\+ + +

You really should have been with Sam at this point of the night when Sioux Falls was at the very brink of a possible zombie overtake. But you were holding onto that little fraction of hope that maybe none of this will end out terribly. You were hoping for a sunny day when it kept raining on and on. You cocked back the shotgun and made sure it was fully loaded before slipping a few more rounds of ammunition into your jacket pocket. Dean busied himself by putting a few more bullets into the chamber of the gun, not seeming to notice that your attention drifted to the house to take a final look at it from the distance that you parked. Bobby was inside the house with his wife, just wanting this little moment of his to keep on going. He was lying over a bomb, not caring that it was going to explode at any second and kill him.

“Could you do it?” You asked the older Winchester out of the blue.

Dean looked up from the shotgun and gave you a bit of a confused look, “Do what, exactly?”

“Say you were in Bobby’s position. If you realized the colt could kill Lucifer—that you could prevent the entire world from going up into flames, would you do it?” You asked him out of a dark curiosity. Dean didn’t seem to think twice about that question. He let out a bit of a chuckle as he got his shotgun ready for use. That was what all three of you were doing, trying to stop the Devil and save the world. But you weren’t done with your question. “If you honestly found a way to kill the Devil—and if you knew it could take me down with him, too—would you do it?”

It was a simple question. Hell, it was a theory that could be a possibility in the near future. All of you had known what the consequences would be if you found a way to stop Lucifer once and for all. You seen it what felt like an entire lifetime ago, even though it’d been a few months. Dean had tried to shoot Lucifer straight in the head with the colt, and while the three of you had been lured into believing that the fight was over, it was just the beginning. You had learned the hard way that if you wanted to take down the bloody devil, his better half was going with him. Dean looked away from you when he heard the words ring inside his head again. He tried so hard to forget that little fact. But you brought it back, and made him wonder for a second about this. He tried to use the excuse that you were different, that you weren’t rapidly turning into a monster like Karen could be. Yet he’d be lying if you were just fine. It was the moral dilemma of killing one to save them all. Could Dean do it if the possibility dropped into his lap?

The both of you were struck out of your personal thoughts when you heard a gunshot go off, the color in your face drained at the thought of what might have happened. Neither of you wasted a second in bolting for the house, needing to know what was going on. Dean picked the lock in just a few seconds flat before the door swung open and he called out the man’s name. You followed behind on his heels and looked around to see where Bobby could have been. The two of you headed inside the library to see a sight you wouldn’t have expected to find so soon. You stopped in your tracks and lowered your gun.

Bobby sat at his wife’s side while she laid on the makeshift he made for her. While it seemed like a sight that seemed like any other, it was the gun that he held and the blood splattered pillow that made you realized what happened. Karen had felt herself starting to turn, and to be sure that she couldn’t hurt her husband like she did before, Bobby killed her, all over again. You could feel your heartbeat pound a little bit harder when the man looked away from his wife and to you and Dean. If there was ever a moment that you saw Bobby at his weakest, this…this was that exact moment you would never forget.

\+ + +

There was time and place to mourn the loss of his wife, but tonight was not one of them. You were a bit surprised when Bobby snapped out of his grief long enough to make a plan of what to do. Sam was out there alone and he needed all the help he could get. You stood outside with Bobby at your side and Dean loaded up the van with all the supplies you would need. As you looked around the junkyard for any possible zombies roaming around where they shouldn’t be, you found yourself staring back at the heartbroken Bobby. He could say all he wanted that he was fine, but you could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t going to be okay for a while.

“You know,” You struck up a conversation, bringing the older man’s attention to you as he broke himself out his concentration on no particular space. “If you want to sit this one out…”

Bobby was tempted for a moment at letting himself not take on such a big fight. But the man couldn’t go back into that house with his wife just lying there. He looked at you from the corner of his eye and gave you his answer, “Let’s just get going.”

Dean decided that answer was good as any. He tossed the last bag into the back of the truck and proceeded to start closing the first door and reached out his hand to close the second, but before he could, a distant sound coming from beyond in the junkyard caught your attention. He stopped for a moment and cautiously looked over his shoulder, he had a feeling that wasn’t just a raccoon looking for food. Dean reached for his shotgun again and turned on his flashlight. He looked over at you, and with a simple command to keep a look out, the man ventured off into the darkness to figure out what could have made that sound.

You thought that it could have been nothing, but you were prepared for the worst in this kind of situation. You and Bobby waited for a minute as things seemed to have grown nothing but silent, all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat and breathing that turned into smoky breaths from the cold winter night. Both of you cautiously tried peeking through the cracks of the crushed cars to see if you could find out what was going on when you heard an unsettling noise disrupt your silence. That’s when you saw it, a shadow that wasn’t Dean’s when you called out the man’s name. When you caught sight of a trespasser, you aimed your gun and tried to take a shot at it, but you missed.

You turned your head just in time to see a zombie come out of nowhere, but Bobby was quicker than you, he pointed his gun and took a shot, blowing the person’s skull right off. You could see that you were about to get surrounded, and no matter how many times you called out Dean’s name, he wouldn’t respond. So, like the crazy idiot that you were, you told Bobby to hold things down as you ventured into the wild, getting ready to kill some zombies in the process. You had managed to take down at least three before you found Dean, struggling to fight off Clay Thompson who had claimed he wasn’t a zombie, but he sure looked it from the way that he was desperately trying to eat the older Winchester. WIth Dean on his back and struggling to get his gun, you pointed the barrel of your own and pulled the trigger, blowing Clay’s head right off.

Dean could thank you later for what you did, but right now you had left Bobby alone, and knowing your mind, it jumped to the worse case scenario. You and the Winchester headed back to the van to see that Bobby was better off than you thought with at least two zombies on the ground missing most of their head. But he was in a bit of a bind when he was lying on the ground trying to fight off another hungry zombie. Dean snuck from behind and pulled the trigger, saving the man from becoming tonight’s dinner.

“Little help here?” Bobby asked, not sure what the two of you were doing a few seconds after the zombie dropped dead.

You mumbled an apology as you let the gun slip out from your grip for just a second to help Dean get the man back to his chair, but it was the worst time to put your guard down. When Bobby was secure again, you took notice that at least two zombies were coming out of nowhere, along with a few other friends. You hissed a few curse words underneath your breath as you didn’t waste a second aiming for any possible headshots that would give you. But unlike the stupid horror movies, these things moved fast. Dean listened to you when you told him to get Bobby inside as you followed not that far behind, wasting your ammunition on wasted shots as the three of you got yourselves back inside the house.

“Got anymore ammo?” Dean asked. He slammed the door behind him and checked to see how many more rounds he had left. But it didn’t look pretty. “I’m low.”

“Yeah, we got plenty.” Bobby answered him. “Just run back past the zombies. It’s in the van where we left it.”

“A simple ‘no’ would have been fine.” You muttered underneath your breath. Being the smartest person in the room, you managed to stuck at least a few more rounds into your jacket. You loaded up what you could and hoped that it would be enough to get yourself out there and grab what you needed before coming back. “What the hell are they doing here, anyway?!”

“I think I get it.” Bobby said.

Before the man could tell you why, the moment was rudely interrupted by someone making the effort to jump through the first story window and make his grand appearance. You let out a scoff and aimed your gun, pulling the trigger on the man before he could do something stupid. Dean looked over to the top the staircase when he heard one come from upstairs. He took his final shot at another one. While the men announced they were empty, you rolled your eyes from how situation kept growing worse. You nodded your head for the back of the house, you needed to get somewhere that was free of windows or entrances to the outside. You followed behind as the two men began heading for the kitchen, but another zombie made his grand entrance by jumping through the window. You pulled the risky move of wasting what ammunition you had left of your own so the three of you could make it to safety. But they kept coming.

One jumped through a window, another broke the small window to the door to try and unlock it so they could sneak themselves through. It took at least two more shots before you were all out of bullets, rendering the three of you helpless. Somehow, if by some miracle, you found yourself being backed into a closet and thrown into pitch darkness as the numbers of bodies began to grow. Dean managed to slam the door before someone could get hurt. You quickly found the string that connected to the light, and with a quick tug, you could finally see at least a foot in front of you. Your back was pressed against the wall and Bobby’s wheelchair was nearly crushing your leg as Dean’s elbow was awkwardly pressed against your side.

“Kind of a tight fit, don’t you think?” You wondered, trying to push off Dean best as you could get any sort of room you could get in here.

“It’s all right. They’re idiots.” Dean reassured you. “They can’t pick a lock.”

It seemed that from their constant pounding, they could hear the fabulous idea that Dean had given him. You could feel a sense of panic wash over you at how everything dropped silent for a moment, and just like that, you watched as the doorknob began to slowly twist back and forth. You reached out your arm to roughly slam your fist against the man’s arm. “You idiot!” You hissed at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of being wrong?”

“I’m making this stuff up as I go, Y/N.” Dean said. “Sue me.”

If you somehow made it out alive of this situation, you were going to do far worse things to him than just that. You inhaled a deep breath as you watched them slowly undo the lock, and before you knew it, you were facing the crowd of more than half a dozen zombies that wanted nothing more than to eat your flesh. You and Dean tried to fight your way out by hitting them hard as you could in the skull, but that wasn’t good enough. They just brushed it off like nothing and pushed harder to try and get a bite. While you were thinking that this might be the end, you heard a familiar voice shout something, all before you felt Dean push you to the ground. After that, you heard a fire of gunshots go off.

Bodies dropped to the ground like flies, one after the other, Sam took them down with a bit of help that he gotten into town. It only took less than a minute before things had returned back to what you could resume normal. Bobby’s house was covered in blood and had at least a dozen or so dead bodies lying around his property. But you were alive. When it was safe, you began to push yourself to your feet. You peered over the doorframe to see that it was Jody Mills, the sheriff who, not too long ago, had thrown the three of you in jail thinking that your talk about zombies was absurd. But here she stood with a shotgun and a look on her face that didn’t make you feel the least bit good about this situation.

“Are you okay?”

The question could have been simply answered with a yes, but you wondered. In the span of just a few hours Sioux Falls was turned upside down. Bobby had to shoot his own wife, Jody heard the gunshot that took her only son’s life as Sam was the unfortunate soul that had to do that terrible deed.

“Define okay, Sammy.”

\+ + +

“Nothing like burning flesh to wake you up in the morning.”

You licked your front teeth with your tongue from your tasteless remark, for some reason, you were trying to make light of this situation and how it ended. You and Sam stood in the exact same cemetery where, not too long ago, people were crawling out from their graves to join their loved ones. While it wasn’t their flesh that went bad, it was their homicidal rage to kill that did. You watched as the bodies, each one that all of you had found and collected, laid together in a bonfire for one last funeral they would ever get. But there was no loved ones here to shed tears, just your guilty conscious of what you couldn’t do to save them, like always when hunts when bad. And it had been happening an awful lot with you. You win some, you lose some.

“Well,” You looked over your shoulder when you heard Dean’s voice come from behind after he and Jody had arrived back from their sweep of the town for anymore rabid folks. “If there’s any zombies left out there, we can’t find them.”

“Great.” You muttered underneath your breath. You weren’t exactly happy at the thought of leaving Sioux Falls with a few possible zombies lurking in the shadows and waiting to make their next move. But all of them knew what to do if one of them tried to attack. You looked over at Jody from your question you asked next. “How are the townspeople?”

“Pretty freaked out. Hell, traumatized.” She said. “A few of them are calling the papers. As far as I can tell, nobody’s believed ‘em yet.”

“Would you?” Sam wondered. Jody looked over at the man, a quiet scoff was her response from his question. All of you drifted off into a silence for a moment or so. None of you knew exactly say at this moment of time. While things had been rough, the day was saved, the only true casualties that you had was Ezra Jones’ husband and Jody’s too, the rest of the people that died were already past their expiration date. But it didn’t mean their passing once more would mean grief would be a thing of the past. Sam knew Jody had lost someone more dear than a spouse or a sibling. She lost her only child. It was hard on the younger Winchester himself, being the one who had to do one of the worst things in his entire life, but it was what he had to do. Kill one to save them all. “How are you holding up?”

Jody fell silent from the question. While it could have been answered with a simple, “I’m fine.” you knew she would be lying. So, instead she decided to say nothing. You gave the woman a sympathetic smile at her situation. Just in her eyes you could see the pain she must have been going through. But from what you had seen from her, she was a strong woman. She got through losing her son once, and she could do it again.

“Is that everyone?” Dean asked, getting the focus back to the conversation again.

You let out a sigh and turned your head to look at the burning bodies. “All but one.”

\+ + +

Karen was the last person that needed to be put to rest. You and the boys wrapped up things at the cemetery before heading back to the Singer residence to help Bobby say his final goodbyes to his wife. You found him in the junkyard with the fire already going, while his back was turned to you in his chair, you could feel his true emotions lingering around in the air. But you didn’t say anything. You stood beside him and allowed him to work through what emotions that he wanted to express. None of you lost someone close to you all over again. Bobby was there for you at your worst. And it was now you who needed to return the favor.

“So, thinking maybe I should apologize for losing my head back there.” Bobby said, breaking the silence that had been around the four of you over the past several seconds.

“Bobby,” You spoke the man’s name with a soft tone. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“Hey, look, I don’t know squat from shinola about being married, but…” Dean tried his hardest to be supportive to the older hunter. While he was tempted to say that he didn’t know squat about true love, he refrained himself, knowing it wasn’t true, and how hurtful words could be. He looked at you from the corner of his eye before turning his gaze down, trying to find some sort of silver lining here. “At least you got to spend five days with her, right?”

“Right. Which makes things about a thousand times worse.” Bobby admitted. You tried to be supportive of him when you reached out a hand to rest it on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “She was the love of my life. How many times do I got to kill her?”

“Are you gonna be okay, Bobby?” Sam wondered. While he was trying to be helpful, you looked up at him, and slightly shook your head no. This type of thing wasn’t something he could take like any other death. None of you would understand what kind of degree of grief Bobby would go through. Whether it last months or years, time would only tell.

“You kids should know, Karen told me why Death was here. I know why he took a stroll through a cemetery in the sticks of South Dakota. He came for me.” Bobby said. You furrowed your brow and leaned over to the side, giving the man a confused expression from what he was talking about. “Death came for me. He brought Karen back to send a message.”

“You? Why you?” Dean asked.

“Because I’ve been helping you, you sons of bitches.” Bobby snapped at the oldest Winchester. “I’m one of the reasons why you’re still saying no to Lucifer, Sam.”

“So this was a hit on your life?” You asked him, suddenly not liking the sounds where this was going.

“I don’t know if they wanted to take my life or…my spirit.” Bobby muttered. His gaze went back to the fire, the sight of the flames growing bigger from the quiet breeze that passed by every so often. “Either way, they wanted me out of the way.”

“But you’re gonna be all right.” Sam said, now it sounded like a statement that he wanted to believe in, and not like a question. “Right, Bobby?”

Bobby answered the younger man’s question by looking up at him to show the look on his face. You could see in his expression alone that he couldn’t just brush this off like nothing. Death had knew exactly where hit the hardest in the man. It wasn’t one of you, an old hunting buddy, and the man sure didn’t have any friends to call his own. It was bringing a ghost from his past and making the man relive the pain all over again. It was just the effects of dealing with this apocalypse business. All of you knew it was going to be hard. But this…this was worse than you could imagine. And it was only gonna get more complicated in the upcoming months ahead.

\+ + +

Chapter Thirty Seven: Hollow Fate.

Does anyone know what their purpose in life was? Why all seven billion, and growing each second, were placed on this earth? Everyone has a different answer if you ask them. Some speculate each human soul has a purpose, what it is, they won’t know until they’re happy. It hits them like a freight train, and this stupid smile spread across their face. “This is what God [or insert whatever religious belief you have here] put us on this earth for.” People think that fate has a special plan for them that will lead to an entire life of happiness. Others aren’t so optimistic about that philosophy. Others think it’s just an endless cycle of misery. You come into this world screaming and confused, and you die the same way, the feeling like you missed something is the last thought you have until it’s nothing but darkness. If there’s a bright light, that’s for you to decide. It’s true that some will die with regrets because they felt like they had no purpose in life. But for three people, they were running from the path which was chosen for them.

Standing in some motel with Castiel passed out on the bed and a round of cheap whiskey to comfort the emotional wounds after another defeat, Dean had come up with a catchy nickname for the group; Team Free Will. Mr. Comatose, a high school dropout with six bucks to his name, an ex blood junkie and Rosemary’s baby, all grown up. All four of them, Bobby included, were the only people who trying to stop the end of the world. Stop themselves from accepting their fate. But in the process of trying to change fate, they were slowly changing themselves. And not for the better. These poor people were turning into a hollow shell of who they once were.

Bobby Singer; the man who was good at just about everything, except for knowing how to love somebody else. He had killed his wife, for the second time. The man thought putting a gun to the woman’s head wouldn’t be as painful like the last time, but it was worse than before. While he watched the fire continue to burn on and his wife’s ashes slowly get caught into the wind, drifting off to hopefully another part of land that wouldn’t bring her more pain than she ever deserved. Bobby’s fate in this apocalypse was about losing everything; the ability to work his legs, his wife again, and—no matter what he said, or even tried—he was slowly losing his will to live.

Sam Winchester. For a man striving tirelessly to better himself, he’d been failing an awful amount of times. It wasn’t too long ago he tried to make himself feel complete by sucking down demon blood from whatever black eyes that looked in his direction. But that was the past. Sam was trying to hollow out the evilness inside of him. He tried running away, apologizing and fighting each side that was pushing him closer to the edge. Sam has only known his entire life to fight. But he was beginning to feel himself wondering if the Devil was right. What if, in a cruel twist, he stops fighting who he was meant to be and ends up embracing the darkness?

Castiel; an angel without wings and shunned out from Heaven. He’d grown to accept his new role as what it was. He learned from the Winchesters that life was about sacrifice, and living long as he had, it was time to change things up a bit. But he was learning the hard way that fighting his own kind wasn’t easy as he thought. The trail to finding God was slowly starting to grow cold. Mr. Comatose was supposed to be a strong fighter in Team Free Will. But this angel was losing faith in his own father. And without realizing it, he found himself slowly being pushed back into his old role when he was an angel of the Lord. He was being obedient again, following the rules of how fate wanted things to be.

And Dean. Poor, poor Dean. He appears to be hollow, he makes everyone believe there’s nothing going on in his head from the hard expression that he lets sit on his face. But it’s all been an act for months now. He wants to be hollow. He wants to feel nothing. But he can’t. He feels every damn thing that crosses his mind with too much crippling emotion that even spending a night of binging on his favorite sins can’t wash away. He’s drowning in his emotions from everything that was going on around him. The man who once thought he could never have a normal life suddenly craves it all the time. He wants a way out of this. But he knows it’s not that easy. The team leader was breaking down from the weight that was slowly growing heavier.

Dean’s thoughts were constantly about his family; Bobby earlier that day when he was grieving over his dead wife and what kind of man he used to be. (And the realization that Dean put him in that chair.) He’s been trying so hard for twenty six years to make sure his baby brother made the right choices and was protected from those terrifying creatures. And Cas, that pain in his ass. Dean was hard on that angel any chance he could and got annoyed easily from his stupid naivety about everything. But he knew, deep down, Cas was something special. Maybe that angel wasn’t so bad after all. He called that son of a bitch his friend, the only one that had stuck by his side. And Dean couldn’t forget about Y/N…the woman that he loved. The woman who was damned to a fate that was the worse of them all.

They called her many names over the years, but the one that stuck the most was mutt. A term commonly referenced to a creature that was of a mixed heritage. Y/N was a mutt; a mixture of humans and demons. The worst of the worst. While Y/N had heard her own backstory over and over again, it never got any easier. She remembered when she first started hunting with the boys when the only problems she had faced was tracking down John and trying to put a bullet right between Azazel’s eyes. She was twenty four, a newbie at hunting, and she thought the struggles that she faced were terrifying as they come. And her nightmares that she rarely expressed about her turning into a demon.

She remembered making a joke to Sam when they were investing a man named Andy Gallagher, one of the “special children.” While Sam was worried about going dark side, Y/N knew the demon had plans for her too. She tried to ease the tension by making a joke that if he went crazy, she would grow some black eyes and the urge to kill. All those jokes were just to help keep her mind at ease. Five years later, it was the truth.

She was turning into a demon. She was tempted to hurt people. Y/N couldn’t deny the truth any longer or make some joke to help ease the anxiety in her head. While the men around her were emotionally feeling hollow, she was being scooped clean of her soul, and she couldn’t do anything about it. But that didn’t mean Y/N was going to lay down and take what life was trying to give her. She was trying her hardest to keep her optimism alive for everyone and herself. She wanted everyone to believe that there was a way out of this, and on top of it, she could somehow become human again. Somehow she could find a way to destroy everything that made her who she was and still keep the best parts of her that weren’t rotten.

While she put on a smile everyday and pretended like everything was all right for the past twenty three years, at this point in her life, it was becoming hard. Being her empathetic and kind self was becoming emotionally and psychically draining. Y/N was fighting tooth and nail everyday to do the right thing. Who knew, while her role was so small, could be so demanding. She was just the pretty face to fill the role, the boys had the title fight everyone cared about.But it didn’t mean the story being written out for the three of them was fair. All of it was equally terrifying and soul crushing when they took a moment to acknowledge it.

Y/N and Dean were together, soulmates—that special word that made each of their hearts skip a beat—but for all the wrong reasons. Dean was being forced to watch as the woman he loved turn into a monster. Y/N was trying her hardest not to succumb to the darkness and lure in her best friend to saying yes to the Devil. Y/N was made the habit of squeezing herself in the middle of the boys, from the age gap, to how she would sit or walk with them. But not like this. Y/N couldn’t be the reason why the both of them would take the swan dive right into their fate. She was supposed to find a way to save them, not destroy them.

\+ + +

Chuck lifted his hands from the keyboard and leaned back in his seat, knowing the last chapter of “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” was complete. There was nothing else that he needed to write down. It took him most of the day and a half bottle of whiskey to get the words flowing just right. The man took a moment to read his words quietly back to himself as he leaned his head down with his reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He’d written what felt like a thousands of words on you and the boys. While he had learned his own fate of what his role in this world was, nothing compared to the burden on yours and the Winchester’s shoulders. Chuck let out a heavy sigh and closed his laptop, thinking his work was done for tonight.


	16. Dark Side of the Moon.

It sounded like a good idea at the time, but with the consequences that hit you like a ton of bricks the morning of, you suddenly hated past you. The first sensation you felt was a pounding headache from the disastrous idea you had last night after booking a couple motels for you and the boys. It started off innocent enough with a few beers and some dinner out. But then you spotted a liquor store just a walking distance away from the motel. That’s when the idea nested itself into your head like it was the best thing you’d ever thought of Why not spend the night just drinking your problems away?

While you weren’t the type of person to indulge in alcohol to the point where you got out of control, but last night something in you changed. Liver damage would be the least of your problems in the upcoming future. So you kicked back in the boys’ motel with a thirty back of some cheap beer and a bottle of whiskey. All three of you made a game out of who could blackout first. It was a mistake to take on the champions of binge drinking like the Winchesters, but you made it far enough until you passed out on Dean’s bed, not waking up until this very early morning when felt felt a body leaning against your own.

“Move over, Dean.” You grunted underneath your breath in frustration. You could feel the man’s arm reach around so it was resting around your waist, almost trapping you to his side as his hand dipped underneath the pillow. He subtly reached around for something, you weren’t sure what he was trying to find. As you inhaled a breath and began stretching out your body, your happened to reach underneath to feel the coldness of the pillow. And nothing else.

“Looking for this?”

Your eyelids ripped open at the sound of a foreign voice echo through the motel room. Dean rolled over to his side as you pushed yourself to your elbows and looked over your shoulder, wondering yourself of what was going on. The first thing you noticed were the shotguns pointed at each end of the beds, one directed at Sam, and the other at Dean. You looked up to see who had the guts to break into a motel with three trained hunters. You furrowed your brow to see the perpetrators were wearing ski masks. Either this was some sort of robbery, or they were very shy demons who didn’t want to show their face. The one holding Dean’s gun let the cartridge slip out and fall to the ground.

You slowly moved around in bed as you looked away from the strangers and to Sam, who was sitting upright in bed, making the smart move not to move a muscle. You could feel the wooden handle of the demon blade roughly dig into your backside when you began to slowly move into a sitting position on the bed. You must’ve forgot to take it out last night when you started drinking. But for whatever reason, you were thankful that these idiots didn’t think to check.

“Just what I love waking up to. A pounding headache and a gun being pointed at me.“ You muttered underneath your breath. You rubbed the side of your head from the dull ache that wouldn’t go away, but it wasn’t enough to cloud your head for what you could do to get out of this situation alive. "Morning to you too, gentlemen.”

“Shut up.” The one standing across from you commanded. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”

You listened to what they said, not wanting things to escalate quicker than it should. Dean slowly raised his hands, but he noticed something about the man’s voice, he narrowed his eyes on the one standing in front of him when he began to wonder why it sounded so familiar to him. “Wait a minute. Is that you, Roy? It is, isn’t it?” Dean wondered, a smile spreading across his lips at the sight of two hunters he’d encountered before. You furrowed your brow slightly from what was going on here, and began wondering why these two men were turning against their own people. He looked over at the masked man near his brother, knowing exactly who else was in the room. “Which makes you Walt. Hiya, Walt.”

The two hunters exchanged a look when the oldest Winchester spoke their names with a cheery tone, and from how they reacted, the man was right. “Don’t matter.” Walter said, deciding there was no point anymore in wearing these itchy ski masks when the five of you were on first name basis with each other. You dropped your hand to the mattress and rested it against your thighs when they revealed their faces to you, and from the expressions alone, they weren’t here to ask for your help on the hunt. You were the hunt.

“Well, is it just me, or do you two seem a tad upset?” Dean asked, trying to be his typical sarcastic self. You roughly nudged him in the rib cage with your elbow as if to remind the man you weren’t in a safe position right now to make jokes with a couple of hunters with loaded guns pointed at the three of you.

“You think you can flip the switch on the apocalypse and just walk away, Sam?” Walter asked the man he was pointing the gun at. Sam looked surprised at what the hunter knew, as that wasn’t public knowledge anyone that was human could get. But you had a feeling a demon had a set of loose lips that began spreading the gossip around to hunters, telling who was to blame for this disaster. You nervously swallowed when you saw Roy’s gun shift slightly to your direction. “We ain’t the only hunters after you. Especially you, sweetheart. Is it true about what they’re saying?”

“That I’ve got a sparkling personality?” You asked them, a smirk spreading across your lips as your hand reached for the demon knife, wanting to keep them occupied for long as possible. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if you got the knife. But you hoped that it would come to you soon as you got a grip on it. “Or that I’m a great hunter and you’ve made the worst decision of your life trying to mess with me? You gotta be more specific, boys.”

“You never were good at picking the right ones, Dean. Got a real mouth on this one, don’t you, sweetheart? Or is that the demon side of you talking?” Walter wondered. You narrowed your eyes on the man, not exactly liking the tone he was giving you. The man looked away from you and to his partner, Roy, who was standing closer to you and Dean. Roy lowered his gun when he began to walk forward to you, and while you were tempted to make your move right then and there, the man moved quicker. He roughly yanked you up from the bed and to your feet. Dean clenched his jaw when Walter warned him to stay put. You could feel your breathing stop when you felt the cold barrel of the shotgun press directly against your chest, making you realize what the two of them were here for. “What do you say? Ladies first.”

“Don’t do this, Roy.” Dean warned the other hunter. “Don’t make the worst decision of your life.”

But Roy didn’t listen.

Before you knew what was going on and anyone could stop it from happening, the sudden sound of a gunshot echoed through the motel, making the brothers jump out of their skin from what they realized happened right in front of their eyes. Blood was splattered across the walls and bed sheets. And not too far from where the bed that Dean sat on was you. Your body dropped to the ground with a thud, silence followed after that. The boys couldn’t help themselves but look. Dean found himself thrown though a disaster of different emotions when he saw your dead body lying on the floor with a crimson stained shirt. Sam peered slightly over, not caring about how Walter tried to warn the man to stay still by cocking his own gun. He could feel his breathing becoming heavier at the sight of your dead body that remained motionless as it bled into the carpets. But things weren’t going to be that simple, they never were.

As if by some miracle, you came back to life. You could feel yourself inhaling a deep breath as your eyelids ripped open once more, but the color wasn’t your own, it was replaced with the inky black color that each hunter had known to associate with the enemy. The two men watched in confusion as you came back to life. You placed a hand on your chest and began letting out a cough from the throbbing pain that began to spread through your entire body. You blinked and pushed yourself to your feet, your eyes turned back to normal and looked at the men, surprised yourself that you weren’t dead.

“What the hell?” Roy muttered underneath his breath, a look of horror settled into his expression at the sight of you pushing yourself to your feet as you pulled out the demon knife from the back of your jeans, getting ready to attack him from what he did to you. “What the—”

Sam took notice that Walter was focused on the scene himself, and while he tried to take advantage of this situation by lunging forward and grabbing the gun from the man, it proved that his act of bravery wasn’t worth the effort. Walter turned his head back and pointed the barrel of the gun against Sam’s chest, his finger pressing dangerously hard on the trigger, warning him that he wouldn’t hesitate to try on the younger Winchester. Your plan quickly backfired on yourself when Roy overpowered you, your eyes jumped to Sam as you yelled at Walter not to do what he was about to do. But you found yourself growing silent when someone yank the knife out of your grip and place it just below your ear. Roy dropped his gun to the ground, but Dean didn’t dare make a move.

“I heard about this.” Roy said, a smirk spreading across his lips at what kind of knife that he’d never come across before. But he heard plenty about from other hunters. “This the special knife that kills demons? Will this work on you, darlin’?”

“It works especially well on hunters, too.” You made a remark with a smirk as your eyes narrowed on Walter. You let out a chuckle, but the slightest move made you press yourself closer against the sharpened blade, making you wince. “You idiots have no idea what you’ve just done. I’m gonna kill the both of you with my bare hands.”

“That’ll kind of be hard when you’re choking on your own blood, sweetheart.” Roy said, seeming to not be afraid of your little threat.

“Wait! Wait, please.” Sam pleaded with the man, trying his hardest to try and knock some common sense into the men before they did something they would forever regret. “Let’s…Let’s just talk about this, okay?”

“Talking ain’t gonna help.” Walter said. “See you in the next life.”

It happened so quickly. Dean heard the gunshot go off, your screaming of panic as you watched the younger Winchester go flying back into the bed, but the next thing that came out from your mouth was unrecognized. With the quick slit of the knife, the oldest Winchester watched as you dropped to your knees, all before dropping face down to the ground, where you remained. He heard a few noises of you choking on your own blood before you finally stopped moving. Just like that…You and Sam were gone—killed right in front of his very eyes.

The oldest Winchester found himself staring at the sight of Sam across from him lying on the bed, and you at his feet, on your stomach with the look of fear still glazed over in your eyes. He could feel his breathing becoming heavier as he tore his sight from the nightmare fueled situation that was unfolding when Walter ordered for Roy to shoot him. And he better. Or else.

“Killing Sam and Y/N was right, but Dean—”

“He made us, and we just snuffed his girlfriend and brother, you idiot.” Walter reminded the other man. From the look that was settled on the Winchester’s face, he wasn’t happy, every emotion that he was feeling, all the dark thought he thought vanished after being brought back from Hell were rising to the surface. He kept looking at you and his baby brother, both of you, succumb to a bloody end that he couldn’t stop. “You want to spend the rest of your life knowing Dean Winchester’s on your ass? ‘Cause I don’t. Shoot him.”

“Go ahead, Roy. Do it.” Dean encouraged the man. But his tone was anything but supportive, it was dark and gruff. He positioned himself around in bed so he was facing the hunter. He wanted to look at the man straight in the eye and make it clear there was hell to pay for what he did to him and his family. “But I’m gonna warn you—When I come back…I’m gonna be pissed.” Roy kept his gun lowered, it seemed the man was stuck at a crossroads, the little coward couldn’t do it. So Dean pressured him further. “Come on! Let’s get this show on the road.”

Roy only needed to hear the pure anger in Dean’s voice to realize the hole that he dug himself into. If he kept the oldest Winchester alive, he would face a bloody end that was farther worse than what they did to you or Sam. And without a single ounce of remorse, Roy cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.

\+ + +

“Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?  
Ooh, heaven is a place on earth  
They say in heaven, love comes first  
We’ll make heaven a place on earth  
Ooh, heaven is a place on earth…”

Dean could barely hear that cheesy eighties song playing through the Impala’s speakers as you let out a giggle from the way his hands were resting on your hips. Dean felt like he was on a euphoric high from what he was about to do. You laid underneath him in the backseat of the Impala with a soft smile spreading across your lips. He could see how nervous you were, but excited for the journey ahead for the both of you. Nothing around you mattered. In the darkness he could see make out the features that he loved about you as he urged himself to continue farther on. He placed a hand on the window and leaned down to kiss you again, his other slipped underneath your shirt and began to slowly pull it up. You let out a soft moan from his touch and lifted up your arms to allow him to take off your shirt, exposing even more skin that he wanted nothing more than to touch and mark as his own.

“I love you, Dean.” You whispered to him with his mouth just centimeters from yours.

He backed away from you for a moment to inspect the sight of you that made his heart skip a beat in anticipation. Nothing but miles of woods surrounded the both of you, giving you privacy for what you were about to do. Just as Dean was about kiss you again, he suddenly stopped himself, almost as if he wondered why this situation seemed too familiar, like he was living through deja vu. He furrowed his brow and looked at you, wondering if what he was about to do was what he’d done almost two years ago. And then it clicked into his head of what was going on.

This was a dream. Dean was having a dream about the first time you and him got intimate in your relationship. This was the first time you told him you loved him. And how you let him take your virginity in the backseat of the Impala. You had never looked more innocent and beautiful to him than that night. He cherished this moment as one of his favorite memories of you. A warm feeling began to spread across his lips at the sight of you when he realized you were all his.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He found his voice again, wanting nothing more than to enjoy this moment with you. As he shut his eyes and leaned down to kiss you again, he found his arms giving out underneath him as the weight he pressed his weight against had disappeared, the man face planted into the seat, the only taste that he gotten was leather. He furrowed his brow from what had just happened and pushed himself up to a sitting position. This wasn’t how he remembered his memory going. He began looking around the place, wondering where you had vanished off to.“Y/N? Y/N, where’d you go?” 

“Dean…? Dean!”

“Y/N?” Dean wondered if his dream was changing into something different. He leaned forward so he was now staring at the front seat of the car, but nobody was there. When he heard the voice call again, he realized it was male, and belonged to a very familiar angel. “Wait, Cas?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Cas said, his voice coming from the car radio.

Dean decided to switch seats so now he was upfront for this conversation, wanting to give the angel a piece of his mind from his habits that needed to stop. “You got to stop poking around in my dreams. I need some ‘me’ time.”

“Listen to me very closely. This

a dream.” Cas explained to the man. Dean wondered what the angel was talking about as he looked around at his surroundings. “Deep down, you already know.”

Dean took a moment to figure out how he gotten here. He remembered the motel and waking up in bed, you complaining that he was holding you too close. But that was because he heard a bit off and wanted his gun…only to be greeted by two hunters that made the stupid mistake of trying to mess with the three of you. Things didn’t go well from what the man realized next. Dean suddenly had an overwhelming sight of his brother being shot and you having your throat slit clean. All before he gotten the same fate not too long after.

“I’m dead.” Dean mumbled the realization.

“Condolences.” The angel said.

“Where am I?”

“Heaven.”

“Heaven?” Dean repeated after the angel. This wasn’t the pearly white gates he was promised, he was on his car in the middle of nowhere. But the man wasn’t exactly a saint in the eyes of God. He always thought another trip downstairs would be waiting for guy like him. “How did I get to Heaven?”

“Please, listen. This spell, this connection—it’s difficult to maintain.” Cas said as his voice kept going in out and out of frequency from the static that followed after.

“Wait—I-If I’m in Heaven…then where’s Sam and Y/N?” Dean wondered.

“What do you see?” Cas asked the man, avoiding his question. Dean rolled his eyes from the angel’s question by repeating it back to him in a sarcastic tone of voice. “Some people see a tunnel or a river. What do you see?”

“Nothing. M-my dash. I’m in my car. In the middle of the woods.” Dean said, not sure exactly what he should be spotting. The man looked around at his surroundings, he noticed that there was a gap in the trees that looked like a path. “Wait, I see a road.”

“All right—a road. For you, it’s a road. Follow it, Dean. You’ll find Sam and Y/N.” Cas instructed the man. Dean tried to hear what else the angel had to say, but his voice kept breaking up as static was the only thing that could be heard as the angel tried to finish his sentence for the man so he could understand how crucial the next step was. “Follow…road…”

The radio shut off after Cas made his final instructions clear to the oldest Winchester, but Dean remained motionless in his seat, still not sure what going on here. But he wanted to see you and his brother again. He wanted to make sure the both of you were all right. Dean inhaled a deep breath as he decided to give it a try. He reached out to turn the key that was conveniently in the ignition, almost as if it was waiting for him. Turning the key, the Impala’s engine roared to life, Dean pressed his foot on the gas, the car took off down to follow the path.

\+ + +

You’d never seen the moon so bright than the night your mother passed away. You laid on your backside in the middle of the empty field with the reflection of the full moon directly on the lake that wasn’t too far from where you were. The sky was full of billions of stars as the Impala’s headlights were the only source of light as it was parked just a few dozen feet away. Each of the boys laid at your side, capturing the sight for themselves. But the Winchesters that kept you company weren’t the ones that were in their late twenties and just turned thirty one not too long ago. Sam was fourteen and Dean eighteen, the age of when the three of you were reunited back together after so many years apart.

It was a cold night in the middle of November that ended up being one of the best nights of your life that you would never forget. While the consequences of your foolish behavior made you catch the flu not too long after, it was worth it. You’d ran away from the motel that the boys and John were staying at after your mother was finally taken away to custody after they were left baffled to how a woman could claw her own face off. Your head was still trying to wrap around so many different things. Monsters were real, your mother was possessed by a demon, and the two best friends that was torn from you had made it back into your life. They found you lying in the middle of the grassy field, wanting to enjoy what nature had to offer. The three of you spent the entire night laughing, crying and telling each other the twelve years you missed out on.

“You always were fond of this place.”

You looked over to see what Dean meant by that, but the man had disappeared from your sight, only to be replaced with the older version of himself. He stood over you with his hands in the pockets of his beloved leather jacket. The same one his younger self had given you when you complained that you were cold that night. “Dean?” You asked with a bit of surprise. “What are you doing in my dream?”

“I’m not popping in your head sweetheart, try again.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow from what he was saying. He reached out for you to grab his hand so he could pull you up to your feet. Brushing off what grass might have gotten on your clothes, he reached up to take a leaf out from your hair. You looked at him with surprise, both of you realized that he’d done this before, when you were about to leave that night. A smile spread across your lips as you looked away with a bit of blush starting to color in your cheeks. “Looks like you made it on the good list.”

You looked at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Means God doesn’t hate us, after all. I’ll fill you more on the situation, but we gotta get going.” Dean said, not giving you much more information than that. He grabbed you by the arm and began walking to towards the Impala. "We gotta find Sam and get the hell out of here.”

You were about to ask him what he was talking about as you turned around to try and follow where he was going. But it seemed that you had propelled yourself into another setting. You and Dean stopped in your tracks to see that it was suddenly light outside, the sun was shining bright in the perfectly blue sky with puffy white clouds slowly passing by. You furrowed your brow at where you had ended up next. But it didn’t take much to notice that you were back home in your neighborhood. Dean wondered himself of what was going on here. Why were the two of you in this setting? What kind of memory would be so great that either of you should relive it? He didn’t know what was going on, that was, until he spotted the Impala across the street.

Dean could feel the slightest smile spread across his lips at the memory of the two of you. While it was simple, it was still sweet to him. This was back when Sam was at college and his dad was off hunting on his own, leaving the oldest Winchester to find his own work. Every few months he would swing by unannounced to your neck of the woods, just to make sure you were okay. He followed you around town and watched as you did your normal routines, not knowing that you had a shadow follow you. This was before you started hunting and knew his feelings for you. The younger Dean leaned himself against the Impala with his hands in his pocket, his attention never leaving your house. Of course there were the times when he decided to stick around for a little longer and let you catch him lingering outside.

You watched your old self step out from the house, thinking the man across the street was here to visit you, you didn’t realize he followed you around town while you did shopping for yourself and stop at the library. A bright smile spread across your face as you jumped into his arms, you gave the man a tight hug, mumbling into the crook of his neck about how much you missed him. He never realized how much more those words meant to him. Whenever he popped up unannounced, it always made your day better. The both of you would spend as much time together before he went off back to the hunting lifestyle again, leaving you all alone once more. Until the next time.

“What’s going on here?” You found yourself asking the man yet again, but you still watched the younger version of yourself and Dean began heading into your house with smiles and laughter coming from the two of you. Dean shrugged his shoulders as he headed for the Impala, deciding to steal a ride from himself again as you got into the passenger’s side. “Seriously, Dean. Are we dreaming or not?”

Dean tried ignoring your questions for long as possible. He got himself behind the wheel and got ready to turn on the engine, but you reached out to stop him, your hand lingered over his. You gave him a look as you began to grow worried from what could be happening. Dean let out a sigh, he turned his head to look at you with a softened expression. “You don’t remember what happened, do you?”

You fell silent for a moment as you began to wonder. All you remembered was being in the field with the boys, having the same conversation you had when the both of you were teens. But then it hit you like that. You hand slowly reached for your neck at the gruesome memory of what happened that lead you to this moment. The hunters. Sam getting, you pleading for them to stop. Only it was too late for all of you. “If…I…I’m dead?” You wondered as you looked up at the man, your breathing becoming heavier at the thought. “Am I dead?”

Dean raised his brow as he turned on the engine to get this show back on the road to find his brother next, “Surprise, sweetheart.”

\+ + +

Sure, you could wrap your head around the idea that you were dead. You were expecting to see the infamous sight of Hell and all the demons that you had killed again wanting a piece of you after your miraculous escape before. But Dean told you that wasn’t the case here. You were in Heaven, the last place someone like you should be. But here you were, driving the Impala with Dean, back in the same nighttime setting as you were before after driving out of the memory of you and him. Dean told you that Cas had contacted him and gave him some information, and that the both of you needed to find Sam. All you just needed to follow the road and the three of you would be reunited again. Dean had a memory of you, you had a memory of you and the boys, but it seemed that Sam had a whole other setting of people he wanted to think about.

You spotted a house on the side of the road that neither you or Dean had noticed before, so you took the hint that was where you would find Sam. And he was there, in the dining room, surrounded by faces that you’d never seen before. It seemed like a sight straight out of some holiday commercial; the table was set up neatly with perfect china with a setting of foods that looked it was for Thanksgiving and a loving family to keep Sam company. You bit your bottom lip at the sight of him dressed in a button up shirt and tie, with some girl that looked to be no older than eleven with braces, but she sure made a move on the younger Winchester when he accidentally bumped up his leg when she got handsy with him by squeezing his thigh.

“Wow.” Dean couldn’t help himself but let the two of you be known. A smile spread across his lips at the sight of his baby brother getting all nervous with the girl’s father sitting just across from him at the head of the table. “Just…wow.”

“Dean? Y/N?” Sam asked, obviously not expecting to see the two of you. “What are you doing in my dream?”

Dean let out a faint scoff from his brother’s question as you wagged your finger for him to follow the both of you. Sam abandoned the family that didn’t even seem to notice that the man was gone. They continued on the conversation like he was still there, responding at the points where Sam should’ve said something. Sam thought, just like you, that he was dreaming, but his brother told him a different version, about how the three of you were dead after the hunters Walter and Roy shot them after taking a hit on your own. Sam looked at the both of you with a funny expression, not wanting to believe himself that he was upstairs.

“Heaven?” Sam asked once more, Dean nodded his head. “Okay, how are we in Heaven?”

“All that clean living, I guess.” Dean assumed with a sarcastic approach.

“Okay. Shut up. This doesn’t make sense. You two, I get. Sure. You’re Michael’s vessel and you aren’t a complete jerk like your brother, Sammy. But me?” You wondered as you pointed a finger at yourself. The boys looked at you with a confused expression, wondering what you were trying to get at. “Maybe you two haven’t notice, but I’m kind of the reason why Satan’s strolling around the place. And let’s not forget I’m turning into a demon.”

“You were always a better person than either one of us combined.” Dean said, trying to make you feel better. “Maybe you made a decent impression on the big man upstairs.”

You furrowed your brow from his excuse, “I don’t think so. I’ve done some pretty stupid stuff in the past. And last time I check, it wasn’t the road to Heaven that was paved with good intentions.”

“Yeah, well, if this is the SkyMall, it sucks.” Dean complained. “I mean, where’s your twin, Y/N? And the latex you know? Come on. A guy has needs.”

You rolled your eyes from his remark, “Why are you such a pervert?”

Dean made a remark that it was too late in the game for him to change his ways. Sam ignored what the man had said and looked over at the dining room where the family continued on eating and making conversation without him. “You know, when you bite the dust, they say your life flashes before your eyes.” Sam said, thinking he might have figured out what was going on. You gave him a curious look as you crossed your arms over your chest. “This house — t’s one of my memories.”

“When I woke up, I was in one of my memories — the time when we spent the night at the lake. I ran away from the motel after my mom passed, told nobody. But you found me.” You said, a small smile spreading across your lips at the memory. "The three of us talked all night and star gazed.”

“Yeah, yeah. I had the memory of Y/N and I when we…you know. Christened Baby.” Dean said, hoping you would get the hint so he wouldn’t have to say the exact words in front of his brother. But you stared at him, not sure what he was trying to get at, he rolled his eyes and went right out with it. “You and I having having sex together in the backseat of the Impala for the first time. We both took each other's—"

“Oh, God. First off, you weren’t a born again virgin, Dean. Not even the powers of Heaven could do that.” Sam said, all before wanting to get to the fact that you and his brother had ruined the idea of ever sitting in the backseat of the Impala again. “And really, guys? All of all the places…”

“It’s my car.” Dean argued with the man. “I can do whoever I want in there. And it was kind of a spur of the moment thing. She pushed it on me.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s not drag this conversation on more than we have to. So, let’s say this is what Heaven is—a place where you relived your greatest hits.” You theorized as your shrugged your shoulders, not sure what else this place could be.

"Wait—so,” Dean leaned off to the side to take a look at the family that seemed out of place for a memory Sam to have kept dear to him, “Playing footsie with brace-face in there, t-that—that’s a trophy moment for you?”

“Dean I was eleven years old. This was my first real Thanksgiving.” Sam said. Dean looked at the man, thinking that was a lie, their lives might not have been normal, but they made the effort to be traditional like most families with holidays. “We had a bucket of extra-crispy, and Dad passed out on the couch.”

But it seemed the younger Winchester’s memory wasn’t living up to what it was. You could feel the ground beginning to shake underneath you as the lights began flickering, Sam made a remark that he didn’t remember this, which was a sign that something was going off here. You and the boys made the conscious effort to hide away from any possible falling debris as the place erupted into chaos. Sam backed himself into a corner as you squeezed yourself behind the couch with Dean following behind. As a rough shake caused a few pictures and lamps to fall around you, he quickly shielded you with his body, unsure of what was going on.

The chaos lasted for a few moments as a bright light coming from outside passed through the window before it disappeared and everything went back to normal. You were pulled to your feet back by Dean when he noticed things had calmed down. You were nothing short of baffled from what was going on here, Sam was himself. But Dean seemed to have an idea from the way that he went off looking for something.

“Okay. Uh, what the hell was that?” Sam asked, following behind his brother.

“I don’t know, but we are taking the escalator back downstairs. Cas!” Dean called out the angel’s name as he roughly pounded on a radio, trying to turn to a specific station. You asked the man what the hell he was doing. “What does it look like, Y/N?”

“Like you’ve lost your mind.” Sam answered.

“Cas talked to be before using this—this ‘phone home’ radio thing, so I—Cas!”

“I can hear you.”

You looked over your shoulder to see that Cas wasn’t in some radio, but on the TV. You raised a brow from what was going on, his face was up close and a bit staticy, but Dean headed forward, happy to see the angel. “Hey. Cas, hey. So, uh, so, I found Sam and Y/N. But something just happened.” Dean explained to the angel. “There was this weird beam of light—”

“Don’t go into the light.” Cas warned all of you.

“Okay. Thanks…Carol Anne.” Dean muttered. “What was it?”

“Not what—who. Zachariah. He’s searching for you.” Cas said. You wondered what would happen if the dick they called an angel found you. “You can’t turn into a demon and the boys can’t say ‘yes’ to Michael and Lucifer if you’re dead, so Zachariah needs you to return to your bodies.”

“Great. Problem solved.” Sam said, thinking this was a good thing.

“No. You don’t understand. Y-You’re behind the wall. This is a rare opportunity.” Cas said. “You need to find an angel. His name is Joshua.”

“Hay, man, no offense,” Dean said, not liking the sounds of where this plan was going for the three of you. The “But we are kind of ass-full of angels, okay? You find him.”

“I can’t.” Cas said. “I can’t return to Heaven.”

“So, what’s so important about Joshua?” You asked.

“The rumor is that he talks to God.” Cas explained, but the oldest Winchester didn’t seem all that impressed with what the angel’s day job was. “You think maybe, just maybe, we should find out what the hell God has been saying? Please. I just need you to follow the road.”

“What road?” You asked the angel. “The yellow brick road?”

“It’s called the Axis Mundi. It’s a path that runs through Heaven. Different people see it as different things. For you, it’s a two-lane asphalt.” Cas said, explaining exactly what was going and how important this was not to screw up. “The road will lead you to the garden. You’ll find Joshua there. And Joshua…He can take us to God.”

With the words of advice, the TV went dead. You let out a breath and looked over at the boys from what Cas had told you, a feeling of nervousness washed over you. And a little bit of excitement at the thought of this being it. You were

close. Sam raised his brows, wondering what all of you should do next. His brother seemed all too eager to find out where this God whisperer was.

“I think we hit the yellow bricks, find this Joshua cat.” Dean said, you nodded your head in agreement with the man’s plan.

“Really?” Sam asked. He sounded surprised at his brother’s change of tone. Dean looked at the man, wondering what he trying to get at. “I’m just surprised you do. Last time I checked you wanted to break God’s nose, now you think he can help?”

“He’s the only one who can. I mean, come on, “Sam. We are royally boned. So prayer? The last hope of a desperate man.” Dean told the man.

You inhaled a deep breath at the idea of not only meeting the person who had spoken to God, but dealing your last card into this apocalypse game. If this didn’t work, all of you were screwed. There was no going back…fate would win. You shook the terrifying thought of your head and headed for the front door, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of here before it was too late. As you opened up the front door with the boys on your heels, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks. There was no road. Just miles and miles of woods.

\+ + +

“Y/N? What are you doing?”

“Since I left my ruby red heels back on earth, I’m trying to find the yellow brick road.”

You muttered the answer underneath your breath when you walked away from the screen door, letting it slam shut as you began walking through the hallway leading to the kitchen as you pushed the swinging door. Sam lingered behind as his brother began searching himself for another possible way out of here and to another road after yours disappeared. You let out a frustrated sigh when you realized the kitchen was just any old room in this house. As you turned around to try and look around for any other sort of entrance, Sam asked how you were going to find the road in a closet door when you valued that as your second option.

“Don’t ask stupid questions if you don’t want a stupid response, Sammy.” You told him with a tone of voice that was growing more impatient with the lack of new trails that would lead you to the path out of this memory to another one. You reached out and turned on the light to the small closet when you noticed a stringing hanging up on the ceiling. “We’re in Heaven, okay? I died twice in the span of literally seconds. Our memories are coming true, Cas is on TV. Finding a road in a closet would be pretty much the most normal thing to happen to us today.”

“Huh.” Dean seemed to have forgotten all about the conversation you were having with his little brother. The man tilted his head to the side when he noticed something lying on the ground, something that looked awfully familiar to him. He bent down and examined the toy set of a race track a child would put together to make it go around in circles, and if they were lucky enough, go in loops. A smile spread across his lips at the sudden feeling of nostalgia that washed over him when he picked it up to examine the tiny blue matchbox car with the remote control just next to the track. “I used to have one of these when I was a kid.”

Dean placed the small car on the race track and grabbed the remote from the ground, deciding to play with the set for old times sake. You crouched down on the ground next to him to watch the sight for yourself. A small smile spread across your lips at the familiar sight that brought you right back to the early part of your childhood, when it was just you and Dean, Sam was still a baby. The both of you would play for hours on end with each other. If he wasn’t at your house, you were always at his. You watched as the car zoomed across the track, going down the path, until it hit the destination at the very end not too far from where you sat on your knees.

“That was the road?”

Sam’s question broke your concentration off the track, you glanced up at the room, almost expecting to still be at the house in Sam’s memory, but you were thrown into another setting without you even realizing it. You looked around the room to see from the evidence of walls painted blue and toys made for a little boy, you were in someone’s bedroom. You pushed yourself to your feet and examined the place for a moment, wondering to yourself about why this place looked so familiar to you. You peered out the window to see that it was daylight out, and from the second story view of the neighborhood, you could see your house—your old house back in Lawrence. Suddenly you realized where you were, and whose memory this was.

“Pretty trippy, right?” Dean noticed himself that the settings were different, as he took a moment to look around and see what was going on. The man didn’t notice that he was wearing a whole other outfit too until his little brother pointed it out to him.

“Yeah. More trippy—apparently…you ‘wuv hugz.’” Sam mocked the man standing in front of him when he read the text on the baby blue shirt his older brother was wearing with a teddy bear on the shirt for an added touch over a flannel. You were about to let out a chuckle, only it seemed that you didn’t notice just yet you had a bit of a wardrobe change yourself. “And Y/N, apparently you’re ‘Daddy’s little princess.’ Oh, if only I had a camera right now.”

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath. He rested a hand against his chest to try and block out the cartoon bubble words in the bear’s stomach. You pulled down your shirt to see that it was a bubble pink color with the words printed across your chest. Furrowing your brow, you wondered why you and Dean were now dressed like the four and two year old version of your old selves. The oldest Winchester looked around the room once more until he figured out the answer to your unspoken question. “Wait a minute. I know where we are.” 

“Where?” Sam asked, not seeming to get the obvious hint.

Dean scoffed quietly underneath his breath, “We’re home.”

As if you didn’t have enough evidence that you were back in Lawrence, you heard footsteps approaching the closed door of the bedroom. You watched as a hand slowly drew it open before you saw her face, her long blonde hair peeked through first, before you saw the woman leaning her head into the doorway with a bright smile on her face. You could feel your heartbeat pound a little faster at the sight of Mary Winchester in all of her glory. She wasn’t standing in front of you as a hunter or newlywed, but the mother of the two men standing in front of you. From the glow that seemed to have been radiating off her face, she was the happiest that she’d ever been in her entire life.

“Hey, you two,” Mary greeted the two of you as she leaned herself against the door. Her smile grew wider at the sight of you and Dean together, enjoying each other’s company as you always did when the sun was out. “You hungry for lunch?”

You and the boys didn’t say anything for a second, each of you took a greedy moment to inspect the woman, and all her beauty that you’d seen in rare photographs that surfaced through the years. She ushered the three of you to follow her as she told you that lunch was waiting for the both of you, but to be extra quiet, baby Sam was sleeping in the next room. You could feel your heart beginning to beat faster when you lingered behind, somehow wanting to get out of here quick as possible, but your feet forced you to keep this memory alive. You took a seat at the table across from Dean as Mary put down two plates of peanut butter and jelly before pouring two glasses of milk. She looked down at you and gave you a smile.

“Extra crunchy for Y/N, I know that’s your favorite.” She said. You didn’t know if you should smile at her and try to play along, or let the tears that you could feel beginning to form let loose out of guilt.Your heart felt heavy so many different reasons. For Dean because this was a rare memory that he could never relive until this very moment. And most importantly Sam. He was forced to sit back and watch as the two of you live through a memory he’d fantasized about for so many years after processing of her passing. She picked up a butter knife and looked down at her oldest child, wanting to make sure she got the picky eater’s meal just right. “You want the crust cut off?”

“Yeah…I’d love that.” Dean answered for her, a bit hesitant on what to say. But his mind filled in the gaps as she got to work cutting off the crust and slicing the sandwich vertically. Sam tried to get his own mother’s attention, but it went unnoticed, she gave you and Dean yet another smile as she made sure everything was perfect. While you looked over your shoulder to give the younger Winchester a sympathetic expression, Dean, however, was too lost in his own selfish desire to realize the envy of this situation his baby brother would have. “I guess it’s not your memory, Sam. Sorry.”

You tried your hardest to keep your tongue between your teeth to keep yourself from meddling into anyone’s business. This was Heaven, all of you were dead, and this was a memory that was meant for Dean. While you shouldn’t have said anything and just let this one play out…the best of you couldn’t. You couldn’t let Sam sit back and see something he never had. It wasn’t far.

"Dean, uh,” You trailed off for a moment, making the man slowly look away from his mother and to you. You could see the happiness in his eyes, a light you hadn’t seen in a long time. Letting out a quiet sigh, you forced yourself to continue speaking. “We should…go—keep looking for the road.”

“I know. Just—Just give me a minute, okay?” Dean asked you in almost a pleading tone. He let himself become immersed in the memory again when Mary placed a hand on his head as she gave him a loving smile, causing one of his own to grow across his face. You looked away, hating yourself for having to be the person to break him away from this, but you had to go. “Y/N, please. One minute.”

You gave up the fight when you saw the look on his face, you couldn’t fight with him on this. You glanced to another spot in the room as Mary rubbed her son’s head before walking back into the kitchen to clean up the mess brought from feeding two toddlers. As she placed a dirty knife into the sink, the telephone rang, she picked it up and gave a warm hello, but when she recognized the caller on the other end, your eyes drifted over to her when her voice went cold. Mary noticed that you and Dean were looking at her with a worried expression, she waved her hand at the two of you and mouthed to eat, all before throwing herself into an argument with her husband.

“No, John. We’re not having this conversation again.” Mary spoke directly into the phone as she turned away from the three of you, wanting to have this argument in privacy. She didn’t realize that this moment would have an impact on her oldest all these years later. “Time to think? About what? You have two boys at home.”

“I remember this.” Dean whispered. He moved around in his seat until one arm was lying across the top of the chair so he could watch as his mother quietly argue with her husband. She rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip when John tried to apologize for whatever he’d done to upset so much. “Mom and Dad were fighting, and then he moved out for a couple of days.”

“Dad always said they had the perfect marriage.” Sam said.

“It wasn’t perfect until after she died.” Dean told his little brother.

“Yeah. Well, what marriage is perfect?” You found yourself muttering underneath your breath, knowing a little to well about how a parent could romanticize how life was because you remembered it. Mary slammed the phone down back to the receiver and let out a frustrated sigh, her free hand rested against her forehead from the headache beginning to form at the stress of her new life. You were too young to remember exactly came of this, as something like this didn’t have such an impact on your life as it would for the boys. Looking away from Mary, you had a feeling Dean would know. “What happened next?”

Mary stared off into space with a disconsolate expression on her face. Lost in her own personal thoughts about what to do to make things better, she didn’t notice her oldest son, whom had appeared as a small boy in her memory, came up to her and wrap his arms around her shoulders. You looked away from the scene of mother and son reunited once more. While this scene was all too perfect and sweet, your mind wouldn’t forget about the youngest Winchester that lingered in the background of this memory. You couldn’t forget the heartbreaking memory that Sam would never experience this for himself, he would never feel the embrace of his own mother’s touch or to know that he could have something like this. But you let Dean stay in this memory. Because unlike Sam, the man always had to grow up a bit faster than most kids, he wanted to relive what normalcy that he had before it was all ripped away.

“It’s okay, Mom. Dad still loves you.” Dean said with reassurance. Even at the tender age of four, he was still trying to make things right for everyone for the better. He told his mother that everything was going to be okay as she embraced him into a warm hug that only a mother could give. “I love you. I’ll never leave you.”

Mary kept her child in the embrace for a moment long before she pulled away. Her hands rested against his face as her thumb softly brushed against his cheek, she shook her head as a smile spread across her lips from how aware and thoughtful a little boy he was becoming, especially at such a young age.

“You…You are my little angel.” She said in a quiet voice. While the woman fell silent for a moment, she looked away from her oldest son and over to you, a small spread across her lips at what she thought was staring at a much younger version of yourself. She looked back at her son from what she said next. “When you and Y/N are older—much, much older—I want you to promise me you’ll stay the best of friends. You two have something special. Don’t ever lose it. And don’t be a mean big brother to Sammy. You’ll include him just as much. Can you promise me that, sweetheart?”

Dean almost forgot about this part of the memory, but he promised his mother that he would. She gave him a smile and lightly pinched his cheek, she moved the conversation to asking if he wanted some homemade pie, his favorite. But Dean knew that it was time to leave his mother once more when she stepped away from him to cut a slice. He walked away from her and back to you and his little brother, a look of emotional fatigue seemed to have fallen in his face. While you looked at him with a small smile of your own, it was Sam who looked at him a bit funny, making the older Winchester ask him what the man was going to say.

Sam shrugged his shoulders as he began to slightly shake his head from another outlook he was given on the man, “I just never realized how long you’ve been cleaning up Dad’s messes.”

The oldest Winchester ignored what his brother had said, not wanting to trail further down memory lane longer than he had to. He finally got himself to searching for the road that would lead you out of this setting and to another. You got up from your chair and began looking for anything that could be some sort of symbol to another memory from your past. You and the boys looked through cabinets and doors to see if it would lead you anywhere else. Sam pulled out a drawer and began rummaging through papers and other sort of junk his parents must have thrown in here without a care. However, the young man noticed something that looked awfully familiar to him.

He pulled out a postcard to see the illustration was of Route 66, something that he would send to a friend to make them envious of the lifestyle that he grew up with. Well, if he had any. You noticed that he was spending an awful long time looking at the postcard. As you asked him about he was holding, he glanced over at you and lightly shook the paper to demonstrate a possible clue.

“I’ve seen this somewhere before.” Sam admitted, but he couldn’t put his finger on it just yet.

It didn’t take much time after that for things to change all around you. You blinked, and just like that, your surroundings were switched around you, making you feel like you were on some acid trip that was making your head spin. The wall you were staring at was covered in postcards that someone had collected over the states. You stepped back and turned your head slightly to see that you were in some rundown motel, neglected for use from how things were falling apart and almost filthy things were. You furrowed your brow and asked the boys of where you had ended up next, knowing this wasn’t a memory of your own. As you looked over at Sam, a smile began to slowly grow at the ends of his lips, suddenly realizing of what memory this was.

“No way.” Sam mumbled to himself. He looked around the room for a second, all before he quickly turned around on his heels at the sound of a familiar whine coming from behind. You watched as a golden retriever came out from the bedroom area to greet his temporary owner. Sam got down to his knees as he suddenly broke out into a grin at the sight of the dog. He didn’t waste anytime in petting and greeting the dog. “Bones! Hey, come here. Hey, buddy!”

“Who’s this little cutie?” You asked, bending yourself down on the dog’s level so you could pet him. You were greeted by wet kisses on the face as the dog sniffed you. You let out a laugh as he went back to Sam to give him the same affectionate. “So, Bones?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “He’s my dog.”

You raised your brow slightly in curiosity for the story behind the memory. Sam pushed himself back up to his feet to only take a seat on the couch when he noticed a box of pizza that still looked decent enough to eat. Bones followed behind to his owner and continued on wagging his tail with enthusiasm before he placed his head on Sam’s lap. You crossed your arms over your chest from Sam’s trip down memory lane that was leaving him with a smile. Dean looked around the room a bit, seeming to have an idea of when this took place.

“Is this Flagstaff?” Dean asked his brother. He slowly turned his gaze to the man, who seemed to have no recollection to the situation played out for the both of them. “This is a happy memory for you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was on my own for two weeks. I lived off of funyuns and Mr. Pibb.” Sam said. A smile wouldn’t leave his face as Bones snatched the piece of pepperoni out from his hand when he caught a whiff of it. Dean found himself looking at his little brother with a look that wasn’t full of happiness himself. He looked angry, causing Sam to be confused at why his brother was now acting like he caught the taste of something sour. “What?”

“You don’t remember, do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you were dead. And when Dad came home…” Dean said, giving another side to this memory that was the first taste of freedom Sam ever got. The younger man could feel himself becoming a bit guilty at what his brother admitted. He knew the wrath of his father too well. And it sure wasn’t a simple lecture the man had given Dean after he heard the terrifying news.

“Dean, look—I’m sorry.” Sam tried to apologize. “I never thought about it like that.”

The oldest Winchester didn’t want to hear any explanations to a situation that happened what felt like decades ago. He responded with an eye roll and stormed to the door, swinging it open and stepped outside to try and find another road that would hopefully lead to a memory that was better than the last. You looked over at Sam and gave him a small smile, trying to find some silver lining to this situation. You bent down to give Bones one more pat on the head before you walked to the doorway, letting Sam say his final goodbye to the dog. He bent down to the dog’s level and tried to give the command for Bones to stay, while it took a few times, Sam was successful enough to get the dog to listen. Bones sat on the ground and watched as Sam headed out the front door with you to the new memory you were about to get yourself into.

You furrowed your brow in confusion when you stepped out to what looked like your street again back home, but instead of being during the day with a sunny afternoon, it was dark and gloomy with a soft drizzle coming from above. You turned around to see the house that you stepped out of was replaced with your own. For some reason, you couldn’t decide if this was a memory of yours that should have been significant. All the lights in the house were off and the Impala wasn’t in the driveway. You stood with your head tilted to the side, not sure what was going on here, that was, until your eyes stopped a young man’s figure move in the darkness. You watched as he slowly approached the front door with a worn out backpack and a duffel bag close to his side, with all his possessions he’d ever owned, Sam called it quits. On his family, the hunting business. The first stop he made as a free man was showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

“All right. Come on.” Sam said. He tried to get his brother to break his concentration away from the sight of your house. Dean watched as the window to your bedroom lit up, and ever so slowly you made your way downstairs, all while the figure stood with his back turned to the three of you, giving him some chance to keep this memory a secret. “Road, God. Remember?”

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” Dean mumbled. He watched for a few moments longer until the front door opened revealing a younger version of yourself as you greeted the man. You knew he was coming when you stepped out to give the young Sam a tight hug before ushering him inside. The both of you disappeared into the house, where you spent an entire week ignoring every attempt Dean tried to get ahold of his little brother to try and clear things up. He looked over at the two of you with another look of anger. Or maybe it was sadness. “This? This is the night you ditched us for Stanford, isn’t it? This is your idea of Heaven? Wow. This was, like, one of the worst points of my life.”

“I can’t control this stuff.” Sam said, trying to explain himself.

“Seriously?” Dean asked. “This is a happy memory for you?”

“I don’t know, I mean,” Sam shrugged his shoulders, not sure what he could say to make his brother understand what made him choose the path that he did. “I was on my own. I finally got away from Dad. Y/N was there for me when nobody else was.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t the only one you got away from.” Dean said, trying to take a personal jab at the man. He looked away from the both of you and to another spot on the street, wanting to get away from this place far as possible. You rolled your eyes as Sam tried yet again to explain why he made the decisions and apologize for being himself. But his brother wanted to hear none of it, seeming to have an idea of where it was going. “Oh, I know—You didn’t think of it like that.”

“Dean, come on.” You tried your hardest to try and defuse the argument before it could get any worse than it was right now. “It’s in the past. Let it go.”

“No, I can’t! You don’t get it, Y/N. You don’t understand what it’s like to have have an ungrateful little brother who chooses someone else over their own family. Hell, you kept me away from him for that week.” Dean said. He was clearly upset about a lot of things. But he approaching it with an attitude that wasn’t helpful. “He bailed on us, Y/N. You helped him with that.”

“So what if I did? Are you gonna put the blame on me because your father pushed Sam away? Do want me to apologize for helping Sam do something with his life for a little while? If so, no. I’m not sorry.” You told him. “You’ll never understand how different all of us really are. You got the apple pie lifestyle for a few years. He didn’t. I didn’t have any real siblings growing up. I just wanted to help him, okay? I wanted to help Sam make something better with his life. We look at family differently. We fight. We betray each other It happens. Get over it.”

You wanted to leave the conversation at that, knowing there was a deeper meaning to your words than you once realized. You bit your tongue and turned around on your heels, suddenly you began walking down the street. Dean wasn’t going to let this die so quickly. “We’re your family, Y/N. And that’s not how family treats one another. We’re supposed to be a team. It’s supposed to be the three of us against the world, right?” Dean asked you. His words made you stop for a moment in the middle of the road as you crossed your arms over your chest. He spoke up again, but this time, it was with a softer tone. “You’re always trying to get us to stop fighting. Why didn’t you stop us then, Y/N? Why?“

You didn’t answer the question for him, because you didn’t want to. You kept your focus straight on to the road ahead and followed down the path that would hopefully lead you closer to God and getting you back home. Only you only landed yourself into another memory that wasn’t one of the boys, but all your own. You opened your eyes after taking a moment to pull yourself together to see everything had shifted all around you. Instead of being outdoors with soaked clothes from the rain, you were standing in a room that was warm and cozy. You looked down to see that you weren’t wearing your clothes, but something that looked like it was pulled out from your closet in the late nineties. You were confused for a moment about why you were standing in the middle of your old bedroom that you had when you were a teenager, back when your mother was still alive.

A wave of nostalgia came over you at the sight of your walls that were decorated in posters of boy bands that you were obsessed with and movies that you’d seen with old friends on weekends. Everything about this screamed of a room that belonged to a teenager before your life was taken over by the supernatural. You looked around the room, that was, until your eyes spotted a brown haired girl sitting on your bed. She was wearing your old clothes that didn’t fit you anymore as she looked through bottles of nail polish. You knew what this memory was about. Your eyes softened on the girl when you noticed how hot it was. Even in the spring she wanted to wear long sleeves so she could cover up her bruises that were still fading.

"What’s so important about this?” Dean found himself muttering underneath his breath. He didn’t realize who the girl was as she timidly shuffled through the glass bottles, afraid if she broke one how your reaction was going to be. You walked forward to her and helped her pick out a shade of purple that she liked after you told her of how pretty it would look on her. “Y/N, we should get going. I mean…it’s great that you’re remember hanging out with your friend. But we kind of have more important things to do.”

“You wanted to know why, this is it.” You said. You dropped to your knees and smiled at the girl as you began shaking the bottle. She carefully spread out her fingers as you put the top off to start painting her nails. The boys looked at one another, not sure what you meant by that. You stopped for a moment and looked over your shoulder. “You don’t recognize her, do you?”

“Should we?” Sam asked, a bit curious himself of why your tone had grown cold towards them as you focused your attention on the girl. She was young, no older than thirteen or fourteen. She sat on the edge of the bed with you. While she talked, in a mousy tone, he could feel his brow tighten together at the hint of an accent as her eyes opened just enough to see the shade. He’d seen it once before in a woman that he’d grown to detest. “Is… Is that Bela? Bela Talbot?”

“Wait,” Dean found himself letting out a laugh at the sight of some scrawny looking girl that was wearing a shirt a few sizes too big for her. He wondered for a moment about why she would be in one of your memories. But then he remembered about how Bela made remark after remark about Ella, it made him curious to how she knew the woman. “Why is this bitch one of your fond memories? Hell, how do you even know her? After everything she did to us—”

You looked up at the man and gave him a glare, “She was trying to survive.”

“She tried to kill us, she shot you. Bela did nothing but ruin our lives. On numerous occasions!” Dean said, his tone rising as he pointed a finger at the teenager. “So, what? Somehow she crawled her sneaky ass into your life and had a few good laughs. Okay. But that doesn’t change anything. She was an evil bitch. She sold her soul to kill her own parents, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Did either one of you take a second to think about why she did that?“ You scoffed quietly to yourself and tried to focus on the task. You just wanted to sit here for a few moments and enjoy the time with Bela. “And you two think you’ve got daddy issues.”

You accidentally regretted the words that slipped out of your mouth, it made the boys wonder what you meant by that. You rolled your eyes from your big mouth and shoved the brush back to the nail polish bottle. As you let out a sigh, you looked up at the boys, deciding to tell them about how you knew Bela.

“It just…It just happened out of chance. My mom heard about a girl who had came over from England. She was a mess. Bruises on her body and couldn’t get a single word out without stuttering. One thing lead to another, my mom decided to take her in for a few weeks until we could find her a home. It was supposed to be temporary. But…” You bit the inside of your cheek from the secret you were about to admit. You promised her that you wouldn’t tell a soul. “She ended up staying with us for ten months. We got really close. She told me a little bit about the abuse. It wasn’t a lot, but it gave me a clear idea of what a piece of crap her father was. And her mom didn’t even lift a finger to help her.”

The boys listened to what you had admitted. You could see their facial expressions slowly started to change, but you weren’t done telling your story “It was supposed to be a secret, but my mom was getting ready to adopt her. She got the paperwork all ready. I found out by accident one day. I was so happy. To have a little sister…” You looked over at the girl and gave her a smile. She bashfully looked up at you and returned the gesture. But it didn’t last long on your face. “I was going to tell her about the big news when summer was about to start. But, for some reason, my mom changed her mind. One day she kicked Bela out of the house. No reason why. She suddenly hated her. Wanted nothing to do with her anymore. I never understood why she would do such a selfish thing. I took a vow that if I ever got the chance to help my family do something better with my life, I would never turn by back on them. I hated my mom for years for what she did. Hell, for a long time I never understood why John uprooted the both of you. But now I understand.”

It was because they were trying to protect you the only way the knew how. Your mother kicked out Bela because she found out about the deal that she made. She was afraid Azazel would find her and destroy everything she worked hard for. She wanted to save you from becoming dragged into the mess she was trying to run from. And John tore you away from the boys because he wanted his children safe and close to him. Parents do stupid things to try and help you. You hate them when you were a teenager. But it could have been so much worse.

The three of you didn’t have very much time to stay down this memory before your eyesight was being blinded by a light that came out from nowhere. You knew that wasn’t good. You felt one of the boys grab ahold of your wrist, yanking you up from the bed as the three you began to run out of your bedroom, and to any sort of room that could lead you to another road. You opened up every door that you could find, but none of them lead to a path. You didn’t remain too long in this memory when you decided to try and make a run for the staircase. As you placed your foot out in front of you to take a step, suddenly, you were free falling out from the sky, until you felt yourself roughly land face first into the ground.

You tried to brush off the pain as you got yourself to your feet with the boys. All of you looked around to see that you were in the middle of the woods now, stuck in a memory you didn’t have time to figure out who it belonged to. You ran fast as you could through the area, trying not to trip over any sort of obstacle that stood in your way. The boys managed to find a safe haven when they noticed the ground shifted below on a hill that was just low enough to hide the three of you. You dropped yourself to the ground and laid on the wet bed of leaves, all of you took a moment to try and catch your breath.

“Wow. Running from angels…on foot…in Heaven. With out-of-the-box thinking like that, I’m surprised you kids haven’t stopped the apocalypse already.” You leaned back your head to the ground and shut your eyes from the voice that you heard echo through the woods. It was the dick they called an angel, Zachariah. He was getting close on the kill, and he was pulling out all the tops to try and make this fight a living hell. He decided to switch things up when he snapped his fingers, making it light out so he could see you better. “Guys, what’s the problem? I just want to send you back to earth. That’s all. I mean, that is, after I tear you a cosmos of a new one. You’re on my turf now, kids. And by the time I’m through with you, you’re gonna be begging to say ‘yes.’” 

You looked up from the tree that you were hiding behind to see if Zachariah was still talking, too caught up in his own self to realize that you were just behind him. When you noticed that his back was turned to you, you ushered the boys to start running as you got to your feet and began making a run for it. The three of you were running as if your lives depended on it. And while it did, you slowly felt yourself stopping in your tracks when you saw Zachariah standing just a yard away from where you were approaching. He stood with a smirk on his lips as his hands were placed casually in his pant pockets.

“Guys, come on.” He said. “You can run, but you can’t run.”

"And I thought demons couldn’t get into Heaven. Looks like the odds are in our favor today.” You said as you began backing away slowly with a smirk of your own spreading across your lips. “Catch me if you can, dick!”

You quickly turned around on your heels to start running again through the woods, letting Zachariah become nothing more than a blurry shadow in between the trees. The farther you got away from him, the more you thought he was going to pop out again to keep his promise. As you looked in front of you after you looked over your shoulder again, there was someone standing in front of you. But not the familiar face you were expecting. You stopped running to see there was someone dressed in a metallic gold cape and wore a mask that looked like it belonged in a wrestling match. You gave him a skeptical look, he quickly shushed you, all before ordering you to follow him.

You listened to the stranger and followed behind him as he lead you to a shed that wasn’t too far. He wrote the sigil that you’d seen before to ward away angels on the door in chalk before granting you access inside. You stepped inside the place to see that it was a scene you hadn’t been to in so many years. As your eyes began wandering around where you had ended up, you looked at the person who helped you. While you asked him who he was, the stranger decided to reveal himself in a mysterious way. He took off the cape and mask, but with the shadows, you couldn’t see his face. But you knew who he was from what he said next. 

“Buenos dias, bitches.”

“Oh my God. Ash?”

The man clapped his hands to turn on the lights, your lips stretched into a grin at the sight of a familiar face you hadn’t seen in a few years. Mullet and all, the man stood in front of you with his hands raised in the air. “Welcome to my blue Heaven.”

\+ + +

The first time you’d met Ash was back in the early days of hunting when John had passed away, it was a voicemail that Ellen Harvelle had left on some old phone that lead you to the Roadhouse where you first spotted the young genius sleeping on a pool table. He was one of the most interesting men you’ve ever met, and smartest, too. He was a redneck that rocked the mullet and cut off sleeves as his own. You were ecstatic to see the man once more after his fatal death when you were near the end of hunting Azazel. The Roadhouse had burned down to the ground, causing a few fatal deaths of hunters, Ash being one of the victims himself.

In the short time of knowing him, the man had made an impression that would last for an entire lifetime. You looked around at the little piece of Heaven that he had called all his own. Your lips stretched into a smile as you walked down the small staircase that lead to the opening of the bar you’d drank at a few times.

“My God—the Roadhouse.” You mumbled, looking around at the place to see that it was exactly as you had remembered. Sniffing the air, your smile grew even wider at the small details that were all familiar. You glanced over at the bar, half expecting to see Ellen and Jo back there, but your smile faded when it was empty. “It even smells the same.”

“Bud, blood and beer nuts—it’s the best smell in the world.” Ash said. He picked up the cape and mask up from the floor and tossed them into a chair before walking behind the bar area. He snapped his fingers and pointed a finger at you, deciding to try and be a good host. “How ‘bout a cold one? Up here, no hangover.”

“So,” Sam accepted the can of beer from the man and took a seat at the bar. You gladly opened up the can and took a drink before settling yourself down on a stool to rest your legs. “I mean, no offense—”

“How’s a dirt bag like me end up in a place like this?” Ash finished the man’s thought before he could try and figure out a way to word it a bit more nicely. Sam shrugged his shoulders and tried to nod his head slightly, admitting that was exactly what he meant. “I’ve been saved, man. I was my congregation’s number-one snake handler.”

“And you said this was your heaven?” You wondered while bringing the can back to your lips to take another sip. Ash nodded his head as he took a knife to his own drink before bringing it up to start chugging it as the foam came out first. The man took the beer down like a champ before letting out a victory burp and crushing the can. “And when the angels jumped us, we were…”

“In your heaven.” Ash explained as he tapped a finger against his temple.

“So there are two heavens?” Sam asked.

“No, more like a hundred billion. So, no worries. It’ll take them angel boys a minute to catch up.” Ash reassured the three of you. You furrowed your brow slightly as the boys looked confused from what the man was trying to say. It was so simple, but you were making Ash feel like he was trying to explain rocket science to a five year old. “See, you got to stop thinking of Heaven as one place. It’s more like a butt load of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland, except without all the antisemitism.”

“Disneyland?” You repeated after the man, not sure what he meant by that. “I’ve been there a few times as a kid. Trust me, that place is more fun than here.”

“See, you got Samland, Ashland…a whole mess of everybody-else-lands. Put ‘em all together— Heaven, right? At the center of it all is the magic kingdom—the garden.” As said, giving you a rough layout about how things worked upstairs. Dean understood much of what he was saying, out of curiosity, he wondered if everyone got a section of their own place to call their own when they kicked the bucket. “Pretty much. Few people share—special cases, whatnot.”

“What do you mean, ‘special’?” You asked.

“Oh, you know, like…you two. Soulmates. Both of you with your puppy love.“ Ash pointed his fingers right at you and Dean. You could feel a tint of red suddenly start spreading across your cheeks when you looked over at the man sitting to your left. The both of you made eye contact, all before you broke it away, knowing well enough the talk about the subject wasn’t paved well to find out why you and Dean were really together. "Most people can’t leave their own private Idahos.”

You pointed your finger at the man this time, “But you ain’t most people.”

“Nope. They ain’t got my skills.” Ash said as he gave you a wink for an added effect. “Hell, I have been all over—Johnny Cash, Andre the Giant, Einstein.”

“No way!” You said with surprise. A smile broke out across your face, eager to hear about the man’s experience with such a brilliant mind. “What was it like?”

“Y/N, that man can mix a white Russian. Hell, the other day, I found Mallanaga Vatsyayana’s.” Ash said. The man didn’t sound familiar to you or the boys, causing you to ask him who that was. “Wrote ‘The Kama Sutra.’ That boy’s heaven—oh, sweaty, confusing.”

“All this was from a guy who used to sleep on a pool table.” Dean made a remark, you reached up and smacked him on the arm as you tried your very hardest not to let out a laugh.

“Yeah. Now that I’m dead, I’m living, man, a whole lot more.” Ash said, seeming more content with his new surroundings that he was using as his own personal playground to drink however much he wanted and figured out how it all worked. You asked him how he managed to find you in a place like Heaven, but knowing that big brain of his, it wouldn’t be too hard for him to figure out. He pulled out a laptop from underneath the bar to show a screen filled with graphs all over the place, you winced at the piercing sound coming from the speakers. “I rigged up my very own holy-rolling police scanner. That’s angels. Blabbing Enochian, okay? I’m fluent. I heard that you were up. Of course I had to come find you. Again.”

“Wait,” You stopped the man from what you heard, he shut the laptop shut and put it back where he had found it. You gave him a look, wondering what he meant by that. “Again?”

“This ain’t the first time here. I mean, you guys die more than anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve been keeping track for the hell of it. It’s been a tie between you and Dean. But that extra kill,” Ash made a slicing motion with his finger across his throat to make his point, you winced at the memory. “Put you as the winner.”

“Really?” You asked him, surprised at what you were hearing. “Me too? Not just the boys?”

“Yeah. You and Dean were up here left and right a few years back. Felt like a hundred times. Complained about something you called a trickster that kept killing you? Whatever the hell that is. But we made the most of it. Man, you know how to party, Y/N. It was wild.” Ash said with a growing smile on his face as he threw his hands around to an added effect. You raised your brows from the fond memories Ash seemed to have, But you stared at him with a clueless look on your face, having no idea what he was talking about. “Ah, yeah…you don’t remember. God! Angels. Must’ve Windexed your brain.”

You brought the can back to your mouth from what you had heard. It seemed that some good came of what happened to you back at Mystery Spot. Sam moved his drink around for a bit and looked up at Ash, “So, uh. Have you found anybody else? Ellen and Jo?” The younger man tried to be helpful at asking a simple question to see if the Harvelle women had found peace after being put through hell. As, however, answered your question from the look that settled on his face as he quietly repeated the information. You looked away from him, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with guilt, and the thought of where the women might have ended up. Heaven was a mighty big place, you hoped they were out there, happy. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, a few months now. I’m sorry.”

“Um,” Ash was overcome with different emotions at hearing about the loss of the women. He tried his hardest to remain calm as he pressed his fists together. You watched as he inhaled a deep breath and cleared his throat, managing to get himself back to a normal state before asking a very important question of his own. “Uh, they went down fightin’?”

“Yeah—to the end.” You answered for him.

Dean looked down at his beer can to make a subtle remark underneath his breath. “Yeah. A lot of good it did.” He thought his comment had been only heard by him, but it was your lingering gaze with eyes hardening on him that made the man quickly change the subject something a bit more hopeful. “How about our folks?”

“Been lookin’ all over for John Winchester. Mary and Ella, too. So far, nada. I’m sorry.” Ash, said. You let out a sigh from the information. You were a bit hopeful that maybe since your parents had given fate exactly what they wanted, the three of you, that maybe instead of burning in hell for all eternity they could have gotten some peace that was rightfully deserved. “But, hey, there

somebody who I know for sure who wants to jaw with you. Hold up.”

Ash knocked twice on top of the wooden bartop with his knuckles before heading back to the swinging door that lead to the back of the place, pulling out a special guest, which you had no idea of who it could be. You’ve met a lot of faces over the years that had died at the hands of you, but the one who stepped out with her icy blue eyes, a smile spread across your lips at the familiar sight.

“Well, well, well.” You lifted your beer to Pamela, a psychic who had passed away a little over a year ago, to greet the woman. You couldn’t help yourself but let a tasteless joke slip out from seeing her again under these circumstances. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Nice to see you again, Y/N.” Pamela said, a smirk spreading across her lips at the sight of the three of you crowded around the bar. She looked over at the Winchesters, her smile growing even wider at the pleasure of seeing her handsome faces once more. “You too, boys.”

You and Sam naturally gravitated to Ash to figure out how his angel system worked. Pamela and Dean went off to table that was just across from the bar, giving them a bit of privacy after the woman fixed herself a drink. You watched as the man flawlessly let his fingers glide around the keyboard as he made sense of the dozens of different wave graphs that were spread all across the screen and the high pitch frequency that went through the speakers which didn’t seem to bother him anymore.

“So, this is how you get around up here?” You presumed, leaning forward a bit more to examine his work to see if you could try and somehow many sense of this madness.

“Mm. More or less. It’s just awesome to finally have an application—a practical application for string theory.” Ash said, speaking words that you had no idea what they meant. You looked over at Sam for a moment to see if he was understanding any of this. Both of you ended up letting out a chuckle from how the redneck worked his own magic.

Dean accidentally found himself looking away from the psychic that sat in front of him when he heard you laughing. He watched as a smile, the genuine kind that he hadn’t seen in a long time, began to spread at the ends of your lips. You were always fond of Ash, from his personality and how he dressed, down to the brain of his that was hidden underneath all that mullet. While the man was enjoying the sight of you and his brother lost in some nerdy stuff As was talking about, he was quickly pulled away from his personal thoughts when someone’s palm smacked him right against the side of his head. He looked over with a surprised expression from what Pamela did, she raised her brow at him, knowing she had every right to.

“That’s for getting me killed.” She said, explaining her reason why for what she did.

“Yeah. That’s probably less than I deserve.” Dean admitted knowing well enough that he had dragged the woman into a dangerous hunt when she didn’t want to. “If it makes you feel any better, we got Ash killed, too.”

Ash snapped his fingers and threw his fist into the air to show off the rock and roll hand gesture when he heard his name mentioned. “I’m cool with it.”

“He’s cool with it.” Dean repeated after the man, satisfied to see there was at least one happy soul that wasn’t bitter about having their life cut short. He let the smile slowly drop on his face as he got serious, wanting to hear more about how Pamela was taking on the after life. “So, I mean…are you good?”

“I’m good.” She answered his burning question with an honest answer that he wasn’t expecting to hear. Pamela gave him a smile. “Really. Remember my death scene—stab wound, coughing blood? You told me I was going someplace better.”

“I was lying.” Dean admitted. He had no idea what he was talking about at the time.

“You were right. My heaven—it is one long show at the Meadowlands. It’s amazing. You should see it.” Pamela said with a grin spreading across her lips when she told him about the paradise she was given. Dean nodded his head and brought his almost empty beer can back up to his mouth to take a drink, trying his hardest to try and disguise that he wasn’t all that impressed with how things really were. Pamela leaned back in her seat and looked at the man, she scoffed at his reaction. “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I do. It’s just, you know…spending eternity trapped in your own little universe while the angels run the show—that’s lonely.” Dean said, expressing how he really felt about this. “You know, that’s not nirvana. That’s the matrix.”

“I don’t know.” Pamela disagreed with him. “Attic’s still better than the basement.”

“Yeah, but…” Dean gestured around at the Roadhouse that the five of them were in. While he had to give the angels props for adding in all the right details to make it feel at home, the man still felt their cold touch of control to keep their customers happy. “You know, this place—it feels real, but it’s memorex. Real is down there.”

“Yeah, well, close enough.” Pamela said, shrugging her shoulders as she reached for her glass of whiskey to take another drink. “Look, Dean, I’m happy. I’m at peace.”

“What, you trying to sell me a timeshare?” Dean wondered, making the woman let out a soft chuckle as she looked down at the table for a moment. “I mean, what’s with the pitch?”

“I know that Y/N’s turning into a demon. Well, I knew that even before I got one to the stomach. There was something always off about her. But I know Michael wants to take you out for a test drive…and his little promise cute your girlfriend if you say yes.” Pamela said. Dean narrowed his eyes on the woman as he spoke her name in a low tone, not wanting for you to hear about this conversation for what might happen. She cut him off before he could drop the subject. “Just saying. What happens if you play ball with him—worse case?”

“A lot of people die.” Dean stated with a hardening voice.

“And then they come here. That really so bad?” Pamela asked him. The look on his face was an answer enough for the woman to realize it was. But she wasn’t done trying to win him over as she let out a sigh, deciding to go with another angle. “Look, maybe…you don’t have to fight it so hard. And you won’t be alone here. You’ll have her. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

Dean looked away from the woman at the mention. He was about to take the last sip of his drink to finish it up, but before he did, he heard your voice and broke his concentration away from the black tunnel leading down to the empty can. “Guess who’s a freaking genius?” You asked. You slapped a hand on the man’s shoulder who was sitting next to you, giving the answer before you even said it. “Ash found a shortcut to the garden.”

You and the boys gathered around the front door of the Roadhouse, getting ready to head out to the garden to meet Joshua to have a little chat. Your stomach filled with nervous energy as you watched Ash write some equation onto the door with some chalk. “All-access pass to the magic kingdom.” He said. You nodded your head, thinking what he was doing was a good thing. Ash looked over his shoulder and gave you a look. You furrowed your brow, correcting yourself that it wasn’t a good thing. “That Zach fella’s gonna be watching every road to the garden.”

“Naturally.” You muttered underneath your breath. You turned your attention away from Ash and to the lovely psychic, wanting to give her a final goodbye and an apology for what you did to her all that time ago. Pamela didn’t seem bothered about the afterlife as she embraced you into a tight hug. You squeezed her close and let out a sigh, suddenly, you didn’t want to leave this place and go back to the trouble ahead for the three of you. But you forced yourself to pull away from the woman and gave her a smile. “See you around, Pamela. It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, kiddo. Make sure these two stay out of trouble. Especially you, Dean.” Pamela said as she gave the man a wink. She gave him a look, both of them speaking with nonverbal words, he ignored the past advice the woman had given him and embraced the woman into a tight hug to give his final goodbyes. Pamela moved on the last Winchester and gave him a hug that ended with a hard smack on his ass she’d always adored about him. You bit your lip at the sight of Sam’s shocked face at what she did. “Watch your ass, Grumpy. And stay safe.”

You nodded your head at the woman’s command before turning your attention to the man who was the reason why you even got this far. He stood up straight and looked at the three of you. He let out a sigh, “Gentlemen. Lady. I don’t mean to be a downer or anything, but,” Ash spoke his final words until the next fateful adventure. “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Well, keep a sixer on ice for us.” Dean said.

You saluted a finger at the man, mumbling another thank you for everything that he did. Inhaling a deep breath, you looked straight ahead out of the front door, knowing you were just moments away from possibly settling this once and for all. This was your last real attempt at stopping the world from going under. If this didn’t work, you were screwed. You could just fling yourself right in the arms of Satan and call it a day. But you weren’t going to give up that easily. You’ve made it this far, nothing was going to step in your way. Well…

Moving from one memory to another was beginning to make your head spin after a while. Your vision was engulfed into darkness for a moment as you wandered through another path that you thought was going to lead you directly to the garden. But when your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed that you were somewhere you’ve been to before. You furrowed your brow when you wandered through what appeared to be a living room. For a moment you thought it was a memory of the boys from an old friend. But with technology and furniture that looked too new to be back from their teenage years, you didn’t know what was going on.

You looked around the place to see that there were a few pictures on the wall along with some clues to figuring out where you could have been. Narrowing your eyes slightly, you took notice a collage of people hanging up on the wall, while you leaned closer to take a closer inspection of who the faces could belong to, you suddenly realized they looked familiar. One was of a couple happily smiling together and clinking wine glasses, another was on their big wedding day. And the last one that you saw was of a girl that looked to be in early twenties holding what looked to be a diploma with her significant other and parents in the picture. The people in these photographs weren’t of people that you’ve met years back. They were of you and Dean. You furrowed your brow as you quickly stepped away, wondering what the hell was going on here.

“Wait, wait.” Dean looked around the living room, his eyes taking notice of every little detail that wasn’t of a memory that he had. He thought Heaven was supposed to be about things that he had experienced. Not of fantasies that he had inside his head. Unless…they took this from the time he was kidnapped by the jinn. He was thrown into a fantasy world where his mother was still alive and you were his wife. “I know where we are.”

“Care to explain?” You asked when you grabbed the picture frame of your apparent wedding off from the wall to show him. Sam furrowed his brow and grabbed the photo to take an inspection himself. “Apparently we’re married. I graduated from Stanford with a degree in journalism?”

“The djinn case. Remember? It gave you the fantasy life of what it thinks you want.” Dean tried to explain himself, you realized what was going on here as you nodded your head slowly. All of this wasn’t exactly a memory, but it was close enough for Dean. It was everything that he secretly wanted, but never could have. You didn’t know why, but you felt something in your chest tighten as you looked back over at the photographs of the happy couple with their smiling faces, so naive and stupidly in love. Maybe it was because that would never be you two in your life back down on earth. Dean suddenly wanted to get the hell out of here when the thought crossed his mind. “Let’s go. We need to keep looking for the road again, I guess.”

“Honey? What are you doing up?”

You’ve heard that voice before, you knew why it sounded so eerily familiar to you. Looking over your shoulder, eyes widened slightly at the almost outer body experience you were having right now. There was a woman standing in the doorway that lead out of the living room and to the other parts of the house. She was dressed in nothing more than a maroon button up shirt and messy bed hair. She had the same hair color, facial structure…the same everything as you. You realized that the woman standing across the room

you. Well, the fantasy version that Dean had dreamed about years after coming back to reality. She had every little detail about your face, it was how she came to be that made her a complete opposite of you.

“Look, I’m—I’m—I’m sorry. I love you…but you’re not real.” Dean said. He tried talking to the woman that was the fantasy that shouldn’t even be here in the first place. You cocked your head to the side and gave him a smile while you approached closer to him. “And we don’t have time for—”

“Oh, you can’t sleep?” Your doppelganger asked in a concerned tone. Your intentions of how to help him were clear from the smirk that began to creep at the ends of your lips. “Why don’t you come back to bed, and let’s see if I can do anything to help.”

Dean stared at the woman in front of him for a long moment, “You’re not real.”

“Of course I am. I’m what you want me be. I’m your wife, your companion, your better half…Your perfect little slut that you can use whenever you want.” Your voice suddenly grew cold from what you said last. Dean tried to get away from the fantasy woman and look for a way out of here, but he stopped dead in his tracks from what he heard. You looked over at her, the person that was supposed to be you. She stared at the three of you with a smirk. “You poor little boy. Your head’s filled with so many different nightmares. That’s why you can’t sleep. But let’s not hear about your problems. How about I tell you about my nightmare, Dean? Like the night I got possessed by Lilith and torn to shreds like a chew toy.”

Your eyes drifted away from the woman’s face to see that her shirt was growing wet as it clung to her skin. A sense of horror washed over you when you realized it was blood seeping out from her stomach, micking the wounds that you had gotten on that fateful night. “Guys,” You reached out a hand to touch Dean on the shoulder as you tugged on his sleeve, trying to make the man break his concentration away from the sight. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Don’t you walk away from me.” Your doppelganger hissed at the man. Dean listened to her. Slowly, he tore his gaze away from you, and with almost a fearful look in his eyes, he stared at the woman that had suddenly turned into his biggest nightmare from the things she said next. “I never loved you. You’ve been nothing but my burden. I’m shackled to you, doomed for life of misery. You’re nothing but a selfish bastard. It’s always about you. Whatever Dean wants, Dean gets. You wanted me, so here I am. Look at what being with you got me.”

The woman tilted her head as she blinked, only to show off a pair of malevolent black eyes that were up to no good. Her lips stretched into a devious smile at the oldest Winchester’s reaction. It was nothing of horror to see the woman that he loved his entire life suddenly acting like his worst fear that he prayed would never come true.

“Dean.” You whispered the man’s name, forcing him to break his gaze away from the sight. You quickly shook your head as you tried to get him to focus on you, the real you. “Zachariah is just trying to mess with you. This isn’t real.”

You tried to look for any chance of escaping this place, but it was all over from that. You noticed right away every single entrance and window was bricked off. And if that wasn’t enough to know that you and the boys were screwed, the lighting in the room changed, to an emerald green color. You looked around the room for a possible way out, but she didn’t want you to leave. She still had so much more to say. You looked back at yourself to see that she was still staring at you with that damn smirk you wanted to smack right off her face. She blinked, letting her eyes return back to a normal shade as she continued on the one-sided conversation.

“You think the worse would be the pain of the hell hound. Having those claws rip into my skin, dragging me out of Sammy’s arms. I mean, we were having a moment together, crying about what happened.” You taunted the boys with a baby voice as you looked over at the younger Winchester for a moment. “The torture was pretty bad, too. But…Having your skin filleted off does get boring after awhile. So, Alistair decided to spice things up. He got you involved. And that’s where you shined. You made me feel things that I never thought possible. And all those mean things you said about me.”

The second you stared at him with almost a sad expression, pretending to feel guilty. But it was just an act to get under his skin from what you were about to say next. “You know, for a second, I thought a dumb ass like you—with your GED—was right. I thought I deserved it. I mean, I’m the reason why the both of us went there in the first place. But the more I think about, the more I realized how stupid I was. All the things I did for you all you repaid me by sulking for months because you tortured a few souls. You ruined me, Dean. You made me into this monster.”

Dean stumbled away from the woman at her words, he nervously swallowed as he felt his breathing becoming heavier. You stared at him with the type of expression that made him think back to the time he first tortured you in Hell. How scared and angry you were at him for the things that he did to you with no remorse. But now it was your turn to tear him to shreds.

“I mean, maybe I’m being over dramatic here. It wasn’t all that bad being dead. There was one silver lining for those first ten years in Hell…is that at least I was away from you.” Dean tried not to listen at what you were saying. He was now across the room, patting at any loose brick he could tear away from the walls to get the three of you out of here. But he was trapped. You let out a sigh and thought for a moment about what else you could say. “Everybody leaves you, Dean, you noticed that? Mommy, Daddy…eventually it’s gonna be Sammy and I. Did you ever take a moment to ask yourself why, no matter how much you try to change the future, it always remains the same? Why, no matter how hard you try and save me, I’m only getting worse? Maybe Katerina didn’t get changed because of some sibling rivalry. Ever think about that? Maybe she let Lucifer change her into a demon because she was tired of being exactly what Michael wanted her to be. A good little girl who pretended to be normal for the sake of a man’s happiness that will never be fulfilled.”

You furrowed your brow from the mention of a name you’d only heard once before. Your doppelganger glanced over at you, she let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “See, here we go again, keeping secrets from me. As if that’s gonna help. You can’t save me, Dean. I’m damaged goods. Take as I am. Or you can push me away like Michael did. Either way, you can’t save me. Not like how Daddy tried to save mommy from the big bad demon. You know, come to think of it, maybe you are like your father.” You said, your finger resting on your chin as you began to pretend and think. “A sad, broken man with a loved life doomed for failure. And I get to pay for your mistakes. Just like how mommy did. Lucky me.”

The woman stretched her lips into a toothy grin as she let out an icy cold laugh. You swallowed from everything that you heard come straight out of her mouth. Never would you say something like that. How could you? Dean was frozen in his spot, caught in his own head from the memories that were supposed to be comforting and sweet. But it was nothing short of a nightmare that he couldn’t ever produce to be wicked as this. You knew who was responsible for this at the sound of a familiar voice. As if you thought things were bad before, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

“Easy, now, kitten.” Zachariah warned your double, but you could hear his tone was lighthearted.

“Thought I smelled some misogyny in the air.” You said, your eyes narrowing on the angel when he stepped out from another part of the house and greeted all of you with his unfortunate presence. Zachariah took a spot next to your doppelganger with nothing but a smile on his smug face. “You know, this whole ploy to using me against the boys is really getting tiresome. You might want to learn some new tricks, you dick.”

"Oh you ain’t seen nothing yet, Y/N. I’m just getting started with you three. Especially you, young lady.” Zachariah said, pointing his index finger in your direction. “I mean, guys, did you really think you could just sneak past me into mission control?“

“You son of a bitch.” Sam nearly growled at the angel.

The younger Winchester was about ready to go over there and pumble the angel’s face in until there was nothing left but bone and blood, but he found a slight clinch in his plan. You suddenly felt yourself being pulled back into a tight embrace when someone’s hands wrapped tightly around your body. You struggled to get out when one of Zachariah’s angel buddies came out of nowhere. But it was useless, you and the boys were trapped, exactly how he wanted it.

“You know, I’d say the same thing about you and your brother, Sam, but that would be an insult to your darling mother. I was going to choose her to do this little skit. But then I got poking around in Dean’s head and discovered a whole new side of Y/N I’ve never seen. While I admit she’s a stunning image of Katerina, it’s that pesky attitude of hers that gets under my nerves every time she opens that mouth of hers.” Zachariah said. You gave him a dirty look as you rolled your eyes from his comments. “Take a look, Y/N. This is what you should be striving for. Beauty and obedience.”

“Oh, kiss my ass.” You hissed at him. “It’ll be a cold day in hell when I do anything you want.”

“Surprisingly enough, I’ve actually grown quite a fondness of you as a demon, Y/N. You’re much more…interesting.” Zachariah said, his voice shifting to a tone that wasn’t making you feel all that comfortable. And it only got worse. Zachariah knew how to get even more underneath the oldest Winchester’s skin when he found the man was staring straight in his direction. The angel lifted up a hand and softly brushed the hair from your neck, letting it fall down your back Dean could feel himself stiffen in anger when Zachariah leaned down and ever so softly pressed his lips against the crook of your neck. All while your doppelganger stared at him with a look of pleasure on your face, partly from how he expressed his discomfort at the sight. “I think we’re gonna be logging a lot of quality time together. I’ve discovered I can bring out the real…devil in her.”

“Touch me…her—whatever! Do anything to me, and I swear,” You threatened him with a dark tone. You tried your hardest to try and break away from the angel holding you, he only pulled you closer. “ I will torture you in ways that’ll make you scream. And not in the good kind.”

“And you can gloat all you want, you dick.” Dean added on, his fear was turning in protectiveness at what the angel was hinting at. He always liked to go for outer appearances, thinking that could knock down some of the narcissism a few notches. “But you’re still bald.”

“In Heaven, I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion.” Zachariah said, trying to add up the factor that he was better than all of you. You let out a laugh as you raised your brow, thinking his little description was supposed to win you over. “The three of you see this because you’re…” The angel made you grow quiet when he lightly brushed his finger down the other woman’s arm, giving her another affectionate touch to show that he could, that he had the power to make your skin crawl in discomfort. And it was just the beginning of what he was going to do. “Limited. Laugh now, Y/N. But you won’t be doing that when I get my hands on you.”

“You know, out of all the vessels you could’ve chose….you picked Grandpa.” You said. “At least with Dean I don’t have to worry about him ending our fun short. If you know what I mean.”

Your doppelganger didn’t seem to have that opinion when she looked up at the man with a smile growing on her lips. You wanted to smack the look off her face, but before you could, she had vanished from your sight when Zachariah snapped his fingers. “Let’s quit the sweet talk and brass-track this, shall we?”

“What, are you gonna ball-gag us until we say ‘yes’?” Dean asked, not seeming all that impressed with what the angel had up his sleeve. “Huh? Yeah, I’ve heard that tune.”

Zachariah gave the man a smile, but his friendly gesture was ruined when he swung a punch directly at the oldest Winchester’s gut. You called out the man’s name as you tried your hardest again to try and do something about it. But you remained as you were. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that. I’ve cleared my schedule. Get him up.” Zachariah ordered to the angel who was holding the man, only so he could do it all over again. Dean tried not to give the angel any sort of satisfaction of a reaction, but the punches were harder than he anticipated. “Let me tell you something. I was on the fast track once. Employee of the month every month—forever. I’d walk these halls, and people would avert their eyes! I had respect!”

Zachariah raised his voice until he was nearly screaming in your face, but you didn’t flinch at all. You stared at the angel with a growing smirk on your lips, finding his power trip nothing sort of amusing. He slowly looked over at you, a grim smile of his own crept to the ends of his lips from what he said next.

“And then they assigned me to you. Now look at me. I can’t close a deal on a couple of pathetic, flannel wearing maggots. And you…you little bitch. You’re nothing more than a mutt who needs to learn obedience. You should’ve been the easiest part of this entire plan. But, no. Everybody’s laughing at me. And they’re right to do it.” He said, seeming to have been content with how things worked out in the end. While his reputation was ruined, he had a stress reliever that was the best thing he could ask for. “So…say yes, don’t say yes. I’m still gonna take it out on your asses. It’s personal now, kids. And the last person in the history of creation you want as your enemy is me.”

“Oh, I’m so scared—”

“Do you ever shut up?” Zachariah snapped at you, cutting you off from whatever snarky remark that was about to come out from your mouth. You were about to give him a dirty look and say something else to get under his skin. But he was already one step ahead of you. “I’ll tell you, Y/N, you may have endured the worst in Hell, and Lucifer may be strong, but I’m petty. I’ll make you do whatever I want. How for starters we make you stay quiet?”

Dean let out a chuckle from what the angel said before wincing in pain from how just talking brought him. “Good luck, buddy. Once you get her going, there’s no stopping that woman.”

“Maybe you’re right. Perhaps we should think outside on the box for this one. Say, did Dean or Alistair ever cut your tongue and sew your lips shut, Y/N?” Zachariah asked you. You furrowed your brow as you tried to shake off his touch when he roughly took hold of your chin. “We should start there. Because you’re never getting rid of me. I’m gonna be the angel I’m gonna be the angel on your shoulder for the rest of eternity.”

\+ + +

For a bit of time you were a bit afraid that you might have landed yourself in a situation that you couldn’t get yourself out of. You were dead, landed yourself in a playing field that you had no idea which worked with the only angel you had on your side still down on earth and the one that was holding you held you even tighter whenever you tried to wiggle out of his embrace. You did managed to get Zachariah’s grubby fingers off your face, but the smirk on his face never failed to leave, thinking he had the three of you exactly where he wanted you. As he opened his mouth once more to start some very much needed payback after dealing with your shenanigans over the past year, he froze in his spot, a voice coming from behind him caught the angel off guard.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Zachariah rolled his eyes and peered over his shoulder, wondering who needed his attention at this very important time right now. He did say he cleared his schedule for this moment. But an older gentleman stood in the kitchen with his hands folded together, an apologetic smile on his face for intruding. The other angel wasn’t in the mood. “I’m in a meeting.” He said, gesturing an arm to the two and a half humans that were standing right next to him.

“I’m sorry. I need to speak to these three.” The other angel apologized once more before stating his reason for coming here out of the blue. Zachariah wasn’t all pleased with that excuse when he stepped away from you and the boys and to his own kind, a look of anger settling into his expression. “It’s a bad time, I know. But I’m afraid I have to insist.”

Zachariah scoffed at what he heard, “You don’t get to insist jack squat.”

“No, you’re right. But the boss does.” He said. Zachariah narrowed his eyes as you knew exactly who the other angel was talking about. You shifted your gaze away from the stranger and to the boys, all of you wondering if what he was saying had some truth to it. “His orders.”

“You’re lying.” Zachariah whispered, trying to call some kind of bluff.

“Wouldn’t lie about this.” The angel defended himself, but Zachariah still didn’t seem to believe a single word he was hearing. “Look, fire me, if you want. Sooner or later, he’s gonna come back home. And you know how he is with that whole ‘wrath’ thing.”

Zachariah digested the words for a moment as he tried to brush off the subtle threat with a scoff and looked over at you three, thinking you were going to try and side with the angel. But you remained dead silent. You realized the angel standing across the room was Joshua himself. You didn’t find him, but instead, God personally made sure he found you. Zachariah decided that his time with you was over. You heard the sound of air whooshing around you, all before you felt your feet touching the ground and the angel had disappeared. As you looked around to see where he had went, you noticed right away the house you were standing in was soon gone, and replaced with a much greener sight. Your eyes wandered around to the new change of scenery.

It was a greenhouse…a very big greenhouse. There were all sorts of exotic plants and flowers around you, some were short and nearly went up to your knee, there were others that had grew well past Sam’s head. All of this looked breathtaking as you heard the distant bird chirp from not too far away, but it wasn’t what you were expecting to see. You weren’t exactly overwhelmed like you thought you’d be, but you were underwhelmed, either. The boys took a step down from the few steps that would lead you to Joshua, you followed behind, but your eyes never stopped looking around at the garden.

“This is…” Your eyes trailed up to the glass dome that kept going for a while until it arched off to another part of the garden that was a far distance away. You looked down until you were staring at Joshua with a bit of a confused expression. “This is Heaven’s garden?”

“It’s nice…ish.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, admitting that he wasn’t all that impressed with what God had thought was considered a garden. It was green and big, but that was about it. “I guess.”

“You see what you want to here. For some, it’s God’s throne. For others, it’s Eden. You three, I believe it’s the botanical gardens. You came here on a trip when all of you were younger.” Joshua said. You inspected the place once more, a smile started to spread across your lips at the very faint memory that began to cross your mind. Before you had moved and John had a rough hunt, he would sometimes leave the boys with your mother for watching. She did all sorts of things with the three of you to pass the time, from the playground to the gardens to learn about all sorts of different things, she tried to make the boys feel normal as possible until they were forced back into the hunting lifestyle. But the question burned in the back of the mind of the three of you, and without asking, the angel confirmed. “I’m Joshua.”

“So, you…talk to God?” Sam presumed.

“Mostly, he talks to me.” Joshua said, clearing up a little misinterpretation.

It was exactly what you wanted to hear. You could feel a bit of hope starting to spark back up into you again, this was exactly what you wanted to hear, but you didn’t let your excitement cross your face just yet when you glanced over at the boys. “Well, um,” You found the words stumbling out of your mouth, suddenly feeling bashful and nervous for what you were about to say. Months of hard work and tragedy has lead you to this point, and there was no turning back from here. “We need to speak to him. It’s important.”

Dean asked the most important question of all, “Where is he?”

“On earth.” Joshua answered not a second later.

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know.”

"Do you know where on earth?” Sam asked, trying to get a straight answer out of the angel.

“No. Sorry.” Joshua said, knowing the man was hopeful for some kind of response that could lead them to a proper whereabout. But no angel knew of where God was, not even the one who spoke to him daily. “We don’t exactly speak face-to-face.” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t get it.” Dean said. “God’s not talking to nobody, so…”

“So why is he talking to me?” Joshua finished the oldest Winchester ’s question. “I sometimes think it’s because I can sympathize—gardener to gardener. And between us, I think he gets lonely.”

“Well,” Dean couldn’t help himself but slip a sarcastic reply in for the big man’s internal issues that he was working through when there was so much around him to keep him occupied. “My heart’s breaking for him.”

“Well, can you at least give him a message for us?” Sam wondered.

“Actually, he has a message for you. ‘Back off.’” Joshua said two words that you never thought you would hear. You could feel that little bubble of hope suddenly pop. It was as if Joshua had grabbed a pin and stuck it right in there. Your face dropped in surprise as you tried to ask him what he meant by that, but the look of shock that sank into your face spoke it all. “He knows already—everything you want to tell him. He knows what the angels are doing. He knows that the apocalypse has begun. He just doesn’t think it’s his problem.”

“Not his problem?” You found yourself suddenly enraged with anger. And without thinking about it, you let a bit of your own wrath slip through. “We’ve spent months getting this point. We’ve been breaking our backs trying to make sure this world he created is safe. And all he says for our hard work is to ‘back off’? Are you kidding me? That’s not fair!”

“I’m afraid that’s how it is, Y/N. God has done what he believes is enough. God has saved Dean. He put you on that plane. He brought back Castiel. He granted you and Sam salvation in Heaven. And after everything you’ve done, too.” Joshua looked over at the younger Winchester, knowing the man wasn’t exactly a saint. While you were a little bit grateful for the handouts that God had given you in the past, it wasn’t enough. “It’s more than he’s intervened in a long time. He’s finished. Magic amulet or not, you won’t be able to find him.”

"So, what? I’m supposed to be thankful that I was relaxing in Heaven for all those other times I died? I might not be a child of his, but I didn’t ask to be born. I didn’t ask to be apart of any of this. None of us did. We just want his help.” You gritted your teeth, trying to keep the words coming out civil as possible. “He can stop it. He could stop all of it. I mean, he’s the reason why any of this even started in the first place.”

“I suppose he could help, but he won’t.” Joshua said, trying to make it simple as that. Dean tried to ask once more of why God couldn’t just straighten things out. “Why does he allow evil in the first place? Why did he allow Lucifer to become free from the cage after he disobeyed God’s orders? You could drive yourself nuts asking questions like that.”

“So he’s just gonna sit back and watch the world burn?” Dean questioned the angel.

“I know how important this was to you, Dean.” Joshua said, understanding the man’s sadness and frustration about the answers he was being given after breaking down that night and praying to God for a bit of help. Turns out, he was just wasting his breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, forget it. Just another deadbeat dad with a bunch of excuses, right? Nah, I’m used to that.” Dean tried to brush off the situation like something he’d face before. While he let his lips stretch into a half smirk, the pain was clear in his eyes. “I’ll muddle through.”

“Except you don’t know if you can this time. You can’t kill the devil. You can’t find a way to change Y/N. And you’re losing faith—in yourself, your brother, and now this. God was your last hope.” Joshua said, admitting the oldest Winchester’s feelings without missing a beat. Dean shifted his gaze somewhere else as you and his brother found yourself staring at him with sympathetic glances, knowing well enough the man tried so hard to be strong for everyone. “I just…I wish I could tell you something different.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” You asked the angel.

Joshua furrowed his brow from your accusation, “You think that I would lie?”

“But it’s just,” You quickly were to defend yourself. “You’re not exactly the first angel we’ve met.”

“I’m rooting for you kids. I wish I could do more to help you. I do. But…I just trim the hedges.” He said, shrugging his shoulders at how his hands were tied here. You let out a sigh when Joshua began to walk away. As you asked him what the three of you were to do now. He stopped and turned around to face you. “You go home again. I’m afraid this time won’t be like the last. This time, God wants you to remember.”

\+ + +

There was a burst of light, that’s all what the three of you remember before coming back to life. The boys still remained as they were, lying on their backsides in the motel bed, as you were lifeless on the motel bed, fallen flat on your face with your arms outstretched in front of you. While the room remained in silence for a moment, Sam was the first to rise from the dead. He could suddenly feel a jolt of power rush through his veins, kick starting his heart as he jumped up in bed, causing him to sit up straight as he inhaled a large breath of air when he felt like all of it had once been knocked out of him. Dean had rose just a few short seconds later. The brothers sat on the bed for a second, inspecting their blood soaked shirts and to see if the bullet wounds they had suffered before were still there, but there was nothing. Both of them slowly looked over at one another to make sure they were all right. But they realized one person was missing.

Sam peered slightly below at the ground, his newly started heart began to pound faster in fear when he noticed you were still there, with no signs of movement. But it happened just a long moment later. Your eyes went wide as you inhaled a deep breath, your body nearly jumping up from the ground at the adrenaline that pumped through you. You leaned yourself against Sam’s bed as you quickly inspected your throat and chest, wanting to make sure that you were in one piece. The three of you sat quietly in the motel room for a few seconds. All of you were soaked in dry blood, but you were alive.

“You guys all right?” Sam asked.

You inhaled a few deep breaths and leaned your head against the mattress, your eyes wandering away from the ceiling and to the man sitting right across from you. Everything that you had witnessed flashed in your mind all at once. "Define ‘all right’, Sammy.”

\+ + +

Breaking the news to his own child was the worst thing that you could have ever done. Cas had remained silent for the past five minutes when you told him God didn’t want to be apart of this, he done his share. All four of you were on your own. There was no where else to turn, no other people you could talk to. You let out a faint sigh as you crossed your arms over your chest. While the boys stood with their backs turned to the angel as they packed up their belongings, you watched Cas work through his own personal thoughts. You quietly spoke the angel’s name after another minute of silence, wanting to make sure he was all right. Well, the best way he could be for a situation like this.

“Maybe…” Cas finally spoke up, but it was denial he was stuck in. “Maybe Joshua was lying.”

“I don’t think he was.” You said, giving him the unfortunate news. You looked away from the angel when the boys finally broke their gaze away from their mundane task to try and keep themselves busy. All three of you exchanged a look before your eyes drifted to the angel. “I’m sorry.”

Cas didn’t say anything for a moment. You watched as he pushed himself up from the wall that he’d been leaning on and walk to the middle of the room, his back turned to the three of you. He stood there for a moment with his head turned up to the ceiling, as if this was his last attempt at praying for help. But it wasn’t. He wanted to tell his father off. After being a good son for all eternity, all the things he’d done, he was done. Cas was done with faith…with everything.

“You son of a bitch. I believed in…” But the angel didn’t finish his sentence. There was no point. Nobody was listening to him, God stopped listening a long time ago. Cas turned around in his spot on the floor to face the three of you. His expression was flat, like he was drained from all the human emotions he’d been putting himself through over the past year. He reached a hand inside his trench coat pocket and walked over to Dean. He tossed the older Winchester something. Dean unraveled the familiar leather string to see that it was the amulet. “I don’t need this anymore. It’s worthless.”

“Cas. Wait.” Sam called out to the angel, somehow hoping he could talk some sense into him before he could vanish. But with the sound of fluttering wings, Cas was gone when you blinked. The man let out a frustrated sigh and threw whatever he was holding to the bed. He placed his hands on his hips and looked at you. You were trying your hardest to be strong here. “We can still stop all of this, guys.”

“How?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. But we’ll find it. The three of us will.” Sam knew it was his turn to be the one to pull everyone together when things were getting tough. “We’ll find it.”

Dean didn’t say anything. He let his actions speak for himself. You looked over to see that he grabbed his duffel bag and stared at the doorway ahead of him. The man passed you and his little brother without saying a single word and headed for the front door. But he stopped. He waited a moment before making his decision. You watched as he let the necklace slip through his fingers and dangle in the air. When you heard it hit the bottom of the metal trashcan, your heart sank in your chest. He threw away his amulet. The one that his little brother had given him and he threw it out like it was trash.

Sam tried not to let it bother him. He looked away from the sight and pretend like nothing was wrong. He grabbed his duffel bag from the bed and followed in his brother’s footsteps out the front door. You wandered to the front door, but before you stepped outside, you stared at the trashcan. No, there was no way you were letting it stay there. Without an ounce of hesitance, you bent down and picked up the amulet. all before slipping into your back pocket. The amulet was more than just a way to find God, it was a symbol for Sam’s love for his brother. You weren’t going to let them throw it all away for nothing. There was a way out of this, and you were going to find it yourself if you had to.

\+ + +

Dreams are the only thing you have anymore for salvation, a little piece of Heaven to call your own. Sometimes they’re a bit strange that leaving you to scratch your head for a possibility of how you could’ve come up with an idea like that, others are of things that make you feel an emotion that you thought had died long ago…happiness, normality. It had been a few days since God had given up on the world, and the three people that had been trying to save the thing that had took him seven days to create to make sure everything was perfect. You tried so hard to make sure that Lucifer, his son that was trying to burn the world to the ground, would finally go back to where he belonged after breaking free. You tried so hard, but even that wasn’t good enough for the Father of Creation. Not even a creation of the Devil could do good. So, you gave up. Just for a little while. 

You had curled up into some queen sized bed that dozens of other people had laid their heads on, some were probably people on business just wanting to rest their weary heads. You began to wonder as your eyes grew heavy of how many unfaithful spouses had took off their wedding rings on the nightstand to share a night of passion with their mistress. While it was your last thought before you were thrown into a deep slumber, you didn’t dream about unfaithful partners or making business with demons. You had a sweet dream about a normal life that once was. It was a mixture of a memory you had, along with a fantasy twist that you wished happened. 

There was nothing better than hearing the roar of the Impala’s engine coming from outside and peeking out the window that overlooked your driveway to see Baby, and Dean’s smiling face. He did visit you every so often before you started hunting with the boys to make sure that you were all right or if he needed you to do a search on a monster he was hunting. But one thing lead to another, and the tired hunter was sleeping in your guest bedroom after eating a home cooked meal you insisted on preparing for him. During the quiet nights in your house, you would lay awake in your bed, silently wishing that someone would occupy the other side of your bed to keep your company. While Dean had made you feel a bit safer when he was there, he couldn’t help with the ache in your heart for companionship. But in your dreams, he was there every single night, cuddling you and whispering into your neck of how much he loved you. 

Your dreams had a bit of a twist to them. While you didn’t necessarily wanted the white picket fence and two kids with Dean, you wanted him close to you after he had a hunt. You wanted to be the one who he could think about when he was saving the world. You wanted to be the one to give him a home that he could look forward to after killing the monster. In your dream, that’s how it worked. He came home to you, Sam and his own girl lived right next door. It was perfect. You had him in your embrace, both of you saying of how lucky you were, nothing could touch what you had. The two of you were stupid in love, the only reason why you were together was because that’s how fate wanted it to be. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” Dean would say to you in bed while his arm was wrapped around your waist and your head resting on his chest, the man without a shirt. Your little touch to make things a bit better. You heard his heart beating steadily in your ear as he softly brushed his fingers down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I love you more than anything. I don’t need anything else to make me a happy man. Just you, me and Sammy.” 

You didn’t need much to be happy yourself. In your dreams it was just the small things and your close family that brought you joy. As you pushed yourself up from his chest to sit up straight in bed, Dean gave you a smile, his green eyes lighting up even more at the sight of you. He parted his mouth open to say something, probably about how much he loved you again, but no words came out. And just in the snap of someone’s fingers, your sweetest dreams…can turn into your darkest nightmares. 

The man you had loved with every single ounce of you blinked, and instead of the piercing green eyes you loved staring back at you, it was replaced with something far worse. What was looking back at you was a glowing pair of red eyes with a dark back pupil that looked straight into your soul. It was a color that you’ve never seen before, but you knew just looking at them it sent a shiver up your spine. It was like looking into the face of pure evil. Your mind suddenly kicked into survival mode, but before you could run away, the man roughly grabbed ahold of you by your forearms, pinning you to his lap. He forced you to stare into his eyes, and down the path you’ve was ignorantly ignoring for the past several months. 

“How long do you think you can hide from me, sweetheart?” It was Dean who was holding you tightly into his embrace and whose lap you were straddling. But it wasn’t him. He held you close so you could look at him in those eyes that were making you fearful. As you tried to yank your arms away, he smirked at your pitiful attempt and wrapped his fingers even tighter, ignoring your wince of pain. This was a nightmare, he wouldn’t leave bruises. “How long are you going to hide behind this…thing you call a companion? He can’t save you, not the way that I can. You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna find you. One way or another…” 

“You’re not real.” You whispered with a timid voice. Much as you tried to be strong, there was no denying what you saw was complete nightmare fuel. Dean being possessed by the devil himself and wearing a smile that made your skin crawl off the bone. He tilted his head to the side and stared at you with those eyes that were pure evil. This was a position he’d never got to have before, but you thought this was a work of your imagination. Shutting your eyes, you tried to block out everything around you but your own steady heartbeat. “This isn’t real. This is just a dream.” 

You kept changing the thought underneath your breath as you forced yourself to think about waking up from horrible nightmare. This wasn’t happening. The Devil didn’t find you, and he sure as hell wasn’t possessing Dean. You could feel yourself being jerked forward into reality and back to the motel bed you had crashed on just a few hours ago. You sat up in bed and tried to catch your breath, a thin layer of sweat covered your body from what your mind had come up with for tonight’s fear inducing nightmare. You leaned over and reached out to turn on the bedside lamp to have some light in here so you calm yourself down first before thinking anything about grabbing a drink from the tap. As the motel room flooded with light, you threw yourself against the pillows. You shut your eyes for one second. But he was there. 

“Pleasant dreams, I suppose?”

Your eyes ripped open to see his face clear from the light, the mischievous grin you’ve grown to despise has settled on his face, showing no signs of leaving. Lucifer sat at the edge of your bed with his hands nearly folded in his lap. You know better from the engraving on your ribs that he didn’t find you. He’s in your head, you’re still dreaming. 

“Leave me alone.” You hissed at the Devil himself, thinking the words you spoke with an icy tone and a conflicting mousy voice would be enough for him to vanish from your sight. But when you blinked, he remained as where he was. “I said, leave me alone.”

“You don’t suppose you’ll tell me where you and Sam are. I’ve been looking awfully long for the two of you since we departed ways.” Lucifer said, hoping if he was nice you would just give him your exact location. You said nothing, your hardening glare was the only answer you would give him. “And here I come as a friend. I thought if you did something for me, I would something for you. I know you have questions, Y/N. I have the answers.” He watched as your facial expression changed ever so slightly, he could see the curiosity began to overtake the fear that settled in your eyes. “You want to know about Katerina. Ask me any question, and I’ll answer it—honestly.”

You looked at him with a skeptical look, “You came here tonight because of that?” 

“Maybe. I heard the cat was out of the bag when you and your boys came back from the seventies. Michael visited your little boy toy, told him about Katerina. Thought I’d do the same.” Lucifer said, shrugging his shoulders as if he visited you often for casual chats. You furrowed your brow and opened your mouth slightly, ready to ask him if he was going to tell the truth, he answered you before you could even get the words out. “I told you, Y/N. I would never lie to you. Scouts honor.”

“Who is she?” You found yourself suddenly not so afraid anymore when he promised you answers about a woman that people said that looked exactly like you. Despite all the research and little information that Dean knew, nothing of importance came up on her. “How come nobody’s ever heard of her? Not even Cas?”

"That’s my father’s fault. He’s made sure she stayed our family’s little secret. Only a few angels and what you know as demons remembered her…before Michael got his hands on her and claimed her.” Lucifer’s voice dropped from the mention of his older brother, your eyes dropped down to his fists to see that they were clenching. You pulled the sheets closer as you backed closer to the headboard, thinking putting a bit more distance between the both of you would somehow protect you when you were reminded this was the Devil. “Michael wasn’t lying when he told Dean about her. She was beautiful, and in more than just her complexion. She was a kind soul…she didn’t even judge me. Why, she was the only one who tried to listen to me and understand where I came from. Katerina…she made me stop giving the cold shoulder to humans for a little while. Maybe if they were more like her, perhaps they weren’t so…filthy.”

You furrowed your brow slightly at what you heard, “What happened to change your mind?”

"Michael. He got what he wanted. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. And they just kept coming up. Soon a few turned into a dozen. If that wasn’t bad enough, my father wanted us not only share the planet with them, but he wanted me to bow down to them. You know what comes next. I refused. Michael, the good big brother, threatened me. He—He chose her over me.” The Devil let out a bitter laugh, his lips stretched into a smile, showing off Nick’s lines around his mouth. "I tried not to hate my brother, but he was such a…goody two shoes. He wouldn’t listen to me. So, I did the next logical step. I rebelled. But…I started with my brother first. I wanted to do something that made him angry. Not all at once, something nice and slow. Something even he couldn’t fix.”

It took all of you not to sympathize for the Devil, but there was a small fraction of you that didn’t freeze your heart to him when he talked about this woman. But you knew what came next. He decided if he couldn’t have something, nobody could. “You changed her into a demon.” You said without a drop of hesitance. And just like that, you were back to staring at him like the enemy that he was. “You forced her into something she didn’t want because of your hatred to your brother.” 

"Did you know Katerina means 'pure’? She was, for a short while.” Lucifer didn’t take much thought to what you had to say, he kept going. “She would meet me in secret and tell me stories and I would give her everything she desired. You are a lot like her, Y/N. Both of you have a hunger for something they could never feed you. Knowledge of the good and bad. What God wouldn’t show her, I did.”

“But you—”

“I didn’t do anything that she didn’t want.” The Devil cut you off, his tone becoming sharp as a razor blade. You inhaled a quiet breath as you backed away from him a little more from his sudden stature that turned defensive. While you knew he was nothing more than a hallucination, there was still the fear that he was real, and it was a lie you were telling yourself to feel safe. “So maybe I did plant a few ideas in her head. Could you blame me? She was better than my brother, she needed someone who would give her the respect and power she deserved.”

“Was that before you started messing with her soul?” You asked him. This time, it was your turn to speak to him with a cold tone as your arms crossed over your chest. 

“Did I do anything to to make you the way you are today?” He answered your question with another. He smiled again when you went silent. “It’s a natural instinct. I just simply made it stronger. She wasn’t going to be doomed for a fate after Eve took the apple. So I started with her first. I made her the mother of my big plan.”

You looked at the Devil with a bit of a skeptical look from what he said. You could feel yourself starting to shake slightly from what you were about to ask. “…Mother of what?”

“She was going to be the best thing I ever made. Not even Lilith came close to how I felt about her. I was so close…But Michael. Do you know what he did? He killed the woman he loved because she was different. And God made sure she remained a secret.” Lucifer explained all you needed to know about the woman, and how she was connected to you from what he said next. “But I swore, if I could bring just her memory back, I would. And after centuries, I did it.”

You remained confused at what he was saying, but all it took was the look that he was giving you, the same exact one he did when he first saw you after being broken out of the cage. You weren’t just the reason why he was free, you were a reincarnation of the woman he lost. Sam was the vessel for Lucifer as Dean was for Michael, both of them had their personalities down to a T. You were Katerina, the woman that each angel loved, but in the end, was doomed to a terrible fate. But instead of having you die at the hands of his brother Michael, he was doing all he could to make you the perfect monster to end the world. All the color in your face drained as you suddenly wanted to get out of here. But your body wouldn’t move. His gaze somehow kept you pinned in place. The Devil wasn’t done just yet. He had so much more to say. 

"Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this, Y/N? We’ve worked so hard to make sure all the pieces were put in the right spot. It’s you. It’s always been about you.” Lucifer pushed himself to his feet, but he remained at the edge of the bed. He looked you directly in the eye for what he was about to say next. “I want you to be the one.”

“No. Whatever it is, no.” You tried to get out of bed and walk away from him. While he didn’t follow, his eyes did. He knew you were his trapped prey, all of this was just play for him. “Leave me alone.”

“You belong to me, Y/N. It’s only going to be a matter of time until you turn into a demon. You won’t be saying no to me when you are one. And together we’re going to win.” Lucifer persuaded you with a softer tone. You found yourself backing away from him, and with each step you took, he did as well. “We’re going to rule over this dark, scorched planet. There will be no more pain, no more lives to save. You can live in blissfulness. Just like how it was always meant to be.” You flinched when he reached out a hand, only he softly cupped your chin, his thumb resting behind your ear. He stared down at you with a smile. “Creator with his creation.”

"You’re a freak. That’s what you are.” You quickly ripped his arm away from you as you tried to back away from even further. You stared at the angel in front of you, suddenly wanting to get away from here. What you were hearing was worse than anything you could imagine. It didn’t make sense…but you knew it did. All of it did. “It’s never going to happen. I’m not your property. I’m not some replacement for some chick you tried to turn crazy. It’s never going to happen.”

“What you do you think you’re going to accomplish in the next few months? Every single lead you tried had been nothing but a dead end. Another disappointment. God’s not here to save you. He doesn’t care about any of us.” Lucifer reminded you of the bitter truth you’ve been trying to forget. You clenched your jaw to the point it felt like your teeth were about to break. A mixture of anger and fear suddenly washed over you. Lucifer gently reached out his hand, and without realizing it, he pulled the amulet out from the shirt you were wearing. He let it dangle. “And you can keep trying to save these boys, but you can’t. Each of you have a role to play. It’s in your blood, Y/N. You can’t change their fate.”

"What if I could?” The words came out from your mouth a few seconds after hearing about bloodlines. While fate meant Sam and Dean were supposed to be the true vessel, it didn’t mean an archangel had to be with them specifically. “What if, instead of Dean, there was another brother who could take his place? He’s dead…but do you think it could work?”

“What about poor, little Sammy?” Lucifer asked you, his eyes narrowing slightly from what you were trying to do. “Who’s going to take his place?”

“Me. I’ll do it. Make a demon…do whatever you have to to make me suitable. I want to be your vessel. Not Sam.” You didn’t realize the words fell out from your mouth before it was too late, but you weren’t going to take them back. You stood a little bit straighter as you inhaled a breath. It wasn’t your first time making a deal for the sake of the Winchester brothers, but you never had the chance to make a deal with the actual Devil. Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest as he tilted his chin up. But you could tell he was thinking, and from the little smirk starting to spread across his lips, he thought you were finally cornered. You weren’t done just yet. “Only on a few conditions.”

“I didn’t say it could—”

“Please. I’m begging you. You’re right, okay? I don’t know what else to do.” You admitted to the Devil as you finally let your guard down to him. You didn’t have a God to pray to, there was no more running. This was final chance. You stood in front of Lucifer with eyes that were starting to glaze over as you pleaded to change fate. Just for the people that you loved more than anything. “Don’t drag them into this. You want me, I’m yours." 

"Music to my ears.” Lucifer shut his eyes as his lips stretched into a grin from what you were doing. He knew it was going to be a matter of time until you submitted to him. “And I’ve been hearing whispers from my fellow siblings. They’re getting antsy. Perhaps I’ll send your idea their way…see if they take the bait.”

“I’ll be your vessel—only on three conditions. I want to be the one to tell the angels. Let’s say in two weeks.” You said, bargaining what you could. “There’s one in particular that could help. His name is Zachariah. He can help me with bringing someone back from the dead.”

“And what’s your next request?” Lucifer asked, his brow rising in curiosity. 

"Doesn’t matter who wins. Sam and Dean get a happy ending. Neither one of them are going to suffer” You said, giving your second command. Lucifer shrugged his shoulders and decided that it was fair enough. You were constructing a whole other plan for this, and he was liking how you were thinking. “You said you would never lie to me. Right?” 

Lucifer nodded his head in agreement, “That’s right.”

“Is there really a way to kill you?” You asked him the question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the younger Winchester freed him from the cage. You’d been chasing your tails for months hunting down the colt to see if that would work, and while it didn’t do anything permanent, nothing was immortal. Everything had a weakness. Lucifer found himself grinning from ear to ear at your question, but you stared at him with a deadpan expression. He let out a few huffs of laughter. “Answer my question. Is there a way to kill you? Or at least send you back to the cage?”

Lucifer stopped laughing after a few moments when he realized you weren’t kidding. He slowly shut his mouth and contemplated if he wanted to answer your question. The Devil stared at you for a moment, knowing from your devious mind, you would find out some way. And you’ve done so much for him already. So, he decided to throw you a bone. 

“Yes.” He answered for you. It was one little word that seemed like it was the best thing you ever heard. You tried to keep your composure and not have the Devil call your bluff. You looked away for a moment when you tried to keep the thought out of your mind, the one which would kick start a plan to get yourself out of this deal you made. But before you could stare at the floor, your eyes suddenly jumped to the angel standing in front of you when his hand wrapped around your throat. He didn’t hold you with a tight grip, it was loose, but enough of a shock to make you stare directly at him. “Don’t do something you might regret, Y/N. Making a deal with the Devil comes with far more worse consequences than any sort of torture in hell. When I come for you, you better be ready for me. You’re mine.” 

 

\+ + + 

Your eyelids ripped open as you felt yourself suddenly be thrust forward in bed, feeling yourself emerge from a deep slumber. You placed a hand to rest against the bed as you looked around the motel room, trying to look at the surroundings and figure out what was going on. It was early morning from how the sun was beginning to rise and the birds chirp. You felt rested for once, or maybe it was fear that was making all your senses on point. You took a sweep of the motel room to see that it was empty, you were alone. But you knew he was here last night, in your dreams. You slowly looked over at the dresser’s mirror that was just at the other side of the room, staring directly back at you, your reflection showed a woman who looked like she had seen her worst fear. And you did. Everything you wanted to know last night became clear. But it came with a price…your freedom, your soul. The fate of the world, too.

"What have you done, Y/N?” You mumbled underneath your breath. “What have you done this time?”


	17. 99 Problems.

Dean watched from the front seat of the Impala as the speedometer began to slowly rise to the nineties, and with more pressure to the gas pedal, he was reaching for the hundreds. But it wasn’t good enough. It started off with one, then two—then there were so many all of you didn’t know what to do. There had to be at least over a dozen and counting—compared to three hunters, salt rounds that were harmful but not fatal enough like the one measly knife you had. A little flick of holy water a gunshot full of salt would put a demon down, but there would only one rising up to take its place. You were outnumbered and barely made it out of the place alive without suffering a few battle wounds of your own. You fought long enough to pile yourselves into the car and make a run for it.

But even with the empty road at your disposal as Dean going nearly triple the speed limit, you knew you wouldn’t be able outrun them for long.

“Dive faster, Dean!” Sam nearly hissed the obvious command at his brother when he looked over his shoulder to see if any of them had caught up to you. Dean knuckled the steering wheel tighter, the man was doing the best that he could. But the gas pedal would only go so far down.

“I can’t!” The oldest Winchester grunted underneath his breath. He lifted his foot up for a second before slamming it back down, sending Baby jerking forward. The accidental motion sent you flying back to the seat, causing your shoulder that was dislocated out of place after getting yourself out from a demon who tried to pin in place, it resulted with him getting a knife stuck in his throat. You tried your hardest not to say anything as you shut your eyes for a moment. It was more than just your shoulder you were bloody and bruised all over. “You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m amazing.” You sarcastically implied. You shifted yourself somehow more comfortably in your seat as the Impala kept racing down the road. When you looked out at the window to see where you were going, everything was a blur. They didn’t catch up to you. Not yet. “You ever seen that many before?”

“No. No way.” Sam said, shaking his head. “Not in one place.”

“What the hell?” Dean asked the question underneath his breath, he wondered how the three of you had gotten yourself in a situation that was a fight to the death far. Far worse than the time Lilith trapped you inside that police station, at least you had supplies and a handful of other able bodies to fight the angry mob. But all he had was a little brother who had a nasty cut and you, who sat in the backseat with a shoulder that needed to be popped back into place. But all Dean could worry about right now was white knuckling the steering wheel for the turn he was about to make to try and save your asses. “Better hold onto something, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to ask him what the man meant by that, but the only thing that came out was a sharp gasp of surprise when Dean roughly swung the wheel to the right, making the car follow in the driver’s new direction when a turn came up. Before you could go flying to the other side of the Impala, you managed to reach out your good arm to grab hold of the door handle to steady yourself. But there was another obstacle ahead when you saw something ignite up the empty road. A truck, at least the width of the road, laid on its side blocking no chance of a quick escape for the three of you. It didn’t help that someone set fire to it, making it go up in flames. You let out a groan of pain when Dean managed to find his head again to slam on the brakes, just in time before he could send all of you directly to a terrible fate he was trying his hardest to avoid.

What the hell does he do know? Dean was lost in his own thoughts that were rushing around in his head all at once, his brother’s muttered swear word caused him to break his concentration away from the trunk. Switching gears to go in reverse, the oldest Winchester knew the only way of getting out of here alive would to go back to the belly of the beast. The Impala made a swift u-turn in the middle of the road before Dean managed to put the car back into drive. But before he could slam his foot back on the gas, he heard the sound of glass shattering, and just a split second later, someone’s rough grip around his throat. They found you.

You swung your leg up to kick the demon that made the mistake of going for the backseat window on Sam’s side, giving you a bit of distance from him. You managed to kick the demon right in the face to make him go stumbling back a few feet, but it wasn’t enough for his partner to grab your flailing ankle and drag you across the leather seats and broken glass.The boys were lost in their own fight for survival when a few demons broke the window to the front and tried dragging them out from there. You laid on your back and tried your hardest to fight off the demon, but you knew you didn’t have enough strength left in you.

You tried your hardest to search for the knife that accidentally fell from your lap and down to the floor. You patted around the carpets as you inched closer to the window. You felt the glossy wood touch your fingertip, but it was too late. You felt his grip around your knees, it would only take one more harsh yank before you would land on the ha blacktop. You reached out your good arm to grab a hold of just about anything to keep you here. Before the demon could finish the job, you felt your backside hit the seat, in a twist of events, you heard him back away after letting out a painful scream, his friends followed suit just a second later. You didn’t know what had made them go howling like a banshee, but when you felt your pant leg get soaked in something wet, you quickly realized it was holy water from your own reaction.

You let out a yelp of pain yourself and pulled your leg back inside the car before you could get any more on you. All of you were too caught up in the chaos to discover what just happened.

Demons scrambled to figure out what was going on before they were being dosed in water. You quickly pushed yourself to a sitting position when a stranger’s voice echoed through the night air and looked out the broken window to see what was going on. Through the darkness you could see a truck not too far parked from where you were with a handful of people working together to drown out the demons with holy water, you were presuming from their reaction, as the other chanted some foreign words that sure didn’t sound like a typical exorcism. But it worked like a charm. Suddenly the air was thick with black smoke as they escaped their host’s body before vanishing off. The chaos around you stopped right as the bodies hit the ground. You blinked a few times, not sure what had just happened.

“Well,” Dean broke the silence between the three of you when he saw your saviors. You looked over at him and away from the faces of strangers to hear what he had to say. “That’s something you don’t see everyday.”

You and the boys exchanged a look of glances, unsure of what had spiraled out from and how much dumb luck you just had. You shrugged your good shoulder and reached for the door handle, thinking these people wouldn’t do you much harm. They saved you, after all. The one who was holding the megaphone changed it out for a loaded shotgun when he walked over to you.

“You three all right?” The man asked in a concerned tone.

“Peachy.” You replied with a bit of a chuckle. You ended up regretting the decision not a second later when you felt yourself wince from the bruises that were starting to settle on your rib cage.

“Be careful. It’s…dangerous around here.” The man warned you as he looked around at the sight you and the boys had gotten yourselves into. Dean called out to the stranger as he circled around the car to catch up to him. But the man waved his arm up, thinking you were just trying to show your appreciation for what he did. “No need to thank us.”

“No, hold up a sec!” Dean called out to the man. “Who are you?”

“We’re the Sacrament Lutheran Militia.” The man said. But his answer only left you looking a bit confused as you apologized, asking him exactly what he meant by that. “I hate to tell you this, but those were demons, and this the apocalypse. So…buckle up.”

Yeah, you knew that. You were tempted to say that the three people standing in front of them were the reason why this was happening in the first place, but if they were hunters, it wouldn’t end well. Look at what happened last time.

You tried to explain that all of you were on the same playing field and that you were running from a swarm of them not too far from here. You tried introducing yourselves to see if that would ring any bells, but all you gotten was a blank stare in return. And the three men only looked even more confused when you told them that you were hunters as well. But you knew there was one thing that would help them understand. Dean moved the crowd over to the trunk of the Impala and unlocked it. Pushing up the compartment, there laid all of your weapons one might need during the end of the world. You looked over at the men, and from their reaction, it seemed you had gotten their attention.

“Looks like we’re in the same line of business.” You said to them.

“Yeah, and among colleagues. That’s a police-issue shotgun. That truck is, uh…inspired.” Dean nodded his head to the trunk not too far back across the road. All of this were things that not all hunters would be able to get their hands on. They had friends in all the right places. “Where’d you guys pick up all this crap?”

“You know, you pick things up along the way.” The one standing at the edge of the end of the line spoke up, but his answer didn’t give you much insight to how they exactly figured things out.

“Guys, come on.” Dean chuckled lightly, wondering why the men were suddenly becoming quiet about their tactics here. “This whole corner of the state is nuts with demon omens. We just want to help. That’s all.”

“We’re on the same team here.” Sam added on, trying to ease their hesitance. “Just talk to us.”

The three men took another moment of silence to think things over. You watched as the two older men exchanged a look while the younger one was already on board with trusting you and the brothers. It might have been the trunk full of weapons that won him over. The kid had to be just about nineteen, at that age, everything was new and exciting. When the one who had exorcised the demons looked over at you, he nodded his head to the road, deciding to trust you when he told you to follow him…right after someone popped your shoulder back into place.

\+ + +

It was late morning when you and the boys got yourselves cleaned up and took care of what injuries you gotten during the fight to your death with demons that had you well outnumbered. Your shoulder felt a lot better now that it was back where it belonged and most of your wounds were just scratch marks and bruises that would heal within a few days. The one who had done the exorcism was named Rob, the younger one was Dylan and the last man was Paul. All of them seemed nice enough to let you follow back them into town after telling them you weren’t what they had just taken down. You followed the men into the town of Blue Earth, Minnesota that looked almost abandoned on this gloomy day with a fog surrounding the place. But you could see signs of people crawling around the place, on guard for just about anything with their loaded guns that tried to mess with their town again.

The Impala pulled up what looked to be a tiny church nestled into the heart of the town. While it almost appeared that things were normal from how Dylan’s mother hounded him for wearing headphones as he approached the church, you couldn’t help but feel thrown off from the two men holding guns and keeping guard. You followed behind the brothers as they headed inside to figure out what was going on here. Your eyes lingered away from the church and down to the pavement. You noticed right away they were clever enough to spray a devil’s trap in the middle of the entrance. When nobody noticed, you shifted your footing so you pretend to squeeze past Sam, and avoid the trap all together. You couldn’t be too safe these days.

It wasn’t a surprise to see the pews were filled with people and a preacher up talking with his bible. But what threw you off was what he was saying, and what exactly was going on here. This wasn’t your daily mass, the couple up front with their smiling faces were getting married here. You furrowed your brow and slowly looked back at the crowd, taking notice that most of the guests were locked and loaded. You’ve heard of a shotgun wedding before, but not in this sense. You didn’t know if you should start laughing or cry at the fact of how people were handling the truth about the apocalypse.

“Who would have thought the apocalypse could be so romantic?” The preacher stood forth the crowd and made a small joke, causing the crowd to let out a small laughter, thinking this was a joyous time. They were embracing the end to do all sorts of things they were too afraid to commit with before. “Marriage, family—it’s a blessing. Especially in times like this. So hold on to that.” 

Sam quietly scoffed underneath his breath at what he was witnessing, “Wedding? Seriously?”

“Yeah.” You turned your head to see that Paul had heard what the younger Winchester had said. He looked ahead at the sight, but from the look on his face, he wasn’t happy for the blushing bride. “We’ve had eight so far this week.”

“Want to make it a ninth?” You looked over at the oldest Winchester and nudged him lightly with your elbow to grab his attention as you looked up at him with a smile. Normally it would have been the kind of joke Dean would have made for the fun of it, and when you made it, you thought he would have snickered, or at least give a smile. But he just gave a nonchalant shrug.

The ceremony proceeded on like normally until the bride and groom shared their first kiss as a married couple, for however much longer it would last. They made their grand exit to the happy townsfolk that threw rose petals and rice to show their congratulations for this happy moment during such a dark time. You followed behind until you and the boys stood at the top of the stone staircase to watch the groom made sure his new wife made it safely into the passenger’s side. For some reason, you felt a little green about the situation completely normal people were doing in town, hell, out in the rest of the world right now. People were still getting married and raising a family, having no clue of what was going on around them. But if you had your own way, despite the envy, would make sure it stayed that way.

“So, Rob tells me you kids hunt demons.” A voice coming out from thin air made you turn your head to see it was the preacher who had just conducted the ceremony standing next to you. He watched as the happy couple drove off to their small honeymoon with his bible tucked neatly underneath his arm. He looked over at the three of you gave a smile from what he said next. You nodded your head and was about to return the friendly gesture, but as your eyes looked down for a moment to take an inspection of him, you noticed that he was packing with a firearm close to his side with his holster strapped to his leg. “You missed a few.”

“Yeah, tell us about it.” Sam muttered underneath his breath as let out a chuckle. “Any idea why they’re here?”

“No. They sure seem to like us, though.” The preacher said. He looked at the three of you and nodded his head to the entrance of the church. “Why don’t you guys follow me?”

You did as you were told, walking through the mostly empty church, the preacher made his way to the staircase that lead all of you downstairs to the basement level. Out of curiosity, you made the observation that David was a preacher, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Not what you expected, huh?” He wondered as he looked over your shoulder to flash you another smile.

“Well, dude, you’re packing.” Dean couldn’t help himself but take note of the strange accessory the pastor held close to him.

The pastor shrugged, “Strange times.”

And strange times they were. Through a pair of double doors you stepped into a sight that you would never expected to see in a million years. These townsfolk were serious about keeping themselves safe. Tables lined half of the room, leaving a small space in the middle for people to roam freely and passing out more supplies. Some people were filling jugs with holy water while others prepared ammunition for when the time came. You passed by a table with two people that looked to be a bit older than you, but you did another take when a child was sitting between them, working a machine that you used for shotgun rounds.

“Is that a twelve-year-old packing salt rounds?” You asked, not realizing your voice had came out harsher than you had expected it to. A child their age shouldn’t be involved with this kind of stuff. When you were a preteen you were doing your homework so you could go out and play with your friends after school before the sun set. But this were different times. When you were a kid the world wasn’t about to end in the matter of months.

“Everybody pitches in.” David said.

“So, the whole church?”

“The whole town.”

“A whole town full of hunters? I don’t know whether to run screaming or buy a condo.” Dean muttered underneath his breath as he took a closer inspection of the people that all were working together in perfect sync.

“Well, the demons were killing us.” David said. “We had to do something.”

“So why not call the National Guard?” Sam asked the man.

“We were told not to.” The pastor explained.

“By who?” Dean asked. David grew quiet at the question as shifted his gaze somewhere else. It didn’t take much speculation to know that he was hiding something from you. “Come on, padre. You’re as locked and loaded as we’ve ever seen. And that exorcism was enochian. Someone’s telling you something.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” David apologized as he shifted his footing around. “I, uh, I can’t discuss it.”

“Dad, it’s okay.” A female voice came from behind, making you look around to see who it was. You noticed a young woman was standing right across from you with a smile on her face. She looked at the three of you as if she knew you. But her face remained as a stranger in your memory. “It’s the Winchester brothers and their friend, Y/N. They’re safe. I know all about them.”

You raised a brow in suspicion, “You do?”

“Sure. From the angels.” Leah answered you. You let out a quiet scoff and rolled your eyes from your least favorite people. This wasn’t good. Not only did you have dozens of demons to take care of, you had a woman who spoke to Heaven. If you weren’t safe, your plan that you had been planning for days would go up in smoke. The young woman seemed to have noticed your distress, she gave you a smile and reassured you that you were safe. “Don’t worry. They can’t see you here. The marks on your ribs, right?”

“So, you know all about us because angels told you?” Sam asked.

“Yes.” She answered with a chipper tone. “Among other things.”

“Like the snappy little exorcism spell.” Dean said, he sounded impressed with what she did.

“And they show me where the demons are gonna be before it happens, how to fight back.” She explained even further about what she was able to do. Her father seemed nothing short of proud of what his daughter could do when he stepped over and placed a hand on her shoulder to pull her closer. She rolled her eyes and suddenly became embarrassed from how much of a deal he was making it out to be. “Dad, please.”

“Let me guess—before you see something, you get a really bad migraine, you see flashlight lights?” You wondered as you listed off a few symptoms of what she could have dealt with after you heard Chuck Shurely go through the same things after meeting him not that long ago. Leah looked at you with a surprised expression from how you would know that. “Because you’re not the first prophet we’ve met.”

“But you are the cutest.” Dean found himself speaking his personal thoughts out loud. Neither you or David found his compliment the least bit flattering. He found himself giving an apologetic smile when you stared at him with an unamused glare as her father gave the man a warning. “I mean that with total respect, of course.”

\+ + +

“You’ve reached the voicemail box of…”

“I don’t understand. Wh—Why do I have to say my name?”

After getting a motel room for the duration of your stay in town, you and the boys headed to a local bar to see what you could figure out here from a few of the locals. You decided that it wouldn’t hurt to see if Cas might know anything himself. All though he’d been distant from you after hearing that God had left the building for good, you were hopeful that he had it in him to give a lending hand. But it seemed the angel couldn’t have even handle setting up a proper voicemail. You had to admit, the sound of him being confused and pushing random keys on the phone gave you a good chuckle just at the visual of him struggling. But you cleared your throat when you heard the final beep that warned you to start your message.

“Cas. Hey. Uh, it’s Y/N. So, we are in Blue Earth, Minnesota, and we could use a little help. I hope you get this” You said. You looked around the bar, your eyes automatically dropping to the boys, who were sitting at a table quietly waiting for you to pick up the drinks you’d previously ordered. “And…Cas, if you need to talk, I’m here for you. As your friend, of course.”

You managed to squeeze the last line in before the phone beeped again, signaling that your time had ended. You shut your phone and put it back into your pocket before heading to the bar, where you watched as Paul placed down three glasses of beer. You thanked him before making note of how busy it was in here for a weekday.

“I’m telling you, since the end started, it’s been like one last call.” He said, but from how he sounded, the man sure wasn’t angry about all the business he was making. You were about to reach for the money, but the man stopped you with a friendly gesture. “That round’s on me.”

You thanked him once again before he left you to deal with a customer that needed his attention as you struggled to carry three bottles safely across the room. Luckily you managed to head back to the table without breaking one as the boys greedily grabbed their own before you settled on a seat between them. As you took a sip, Dean wondered if you had any chances of getting a hold of Cas. The best thing that you had managed was a voicemail. If he was smart enough to answer it in time would be the next challenge.

“So, what’s your theory?” Sam asked, starting another conversation. “Why all the demon hits?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore. Kill Leah, the prophet who’s snitching on them?” You wondered as you shrugged your shoulders. You let out a faint sigh as you began to look around the bar full of people that were just a few hours ago working together for a fight that shouldn’t have been their fault. You tore your gaze away when you heard Dean ask you why you were suddenly looking so miserable. “Nothing…Well, no. It’s just—I thought demons were bad. But angels aren’t being any better. They’re sending these people to do their dirty work. 

“Yeah. And?” Dean responded with the most relaxed tone you might have heard from him lately.

“And they could get ripped to shreds.” You continued on your thought, wondering when the man was going to snap out of this state like nothing mattered. The lights were on in Dean’s conscious, but it seemed that nobody was in there.

Dean took a few more sips of his beer before he placed it down on the table. He turned to face you, and without a drop of hesitance, he gave you some cold hard information that he thought you needed to hear. “We’re all gonna die, Y/N, in like a month—maybe two. I mean it. This is the end of the world. But these people aren’t freaking out. In fact, they’re running to the exits in an orderly fashion.” He said, finding this crappy situation with a silver lining. “I don’t know that’s such a bad thing.”

“Who says they’re all gonna die?” You questioned the man without a single ounce of hesitance. Dean reached to bring the bottle back to his lips, but what you said made him stop. You looked at him with a hardening expression at his lack of willpower he was deciding to show all of a sudden. “Whatever happened to us saving them?”

Dean looked at you for a moment, tempted to tell you there was no point, months of hard work went right down the drain when he pulled the colt’s trigger. Every lead since then has been only a dead end. He honestly was tired. He was getting ready to lie down and stop fighting. Before he could verbally speak the words, all of you heard a sound of a church bell going off like an alarm, and like an obedient crowd, you watched as people began to make their way to the exits.

“Something I said?” Dean wondered.

“Probably.” You mumbled underneath your breath, rolling your eyes from his presumption. You looked through the crowd to see that Paul was heading out himself, you waved your hand up and caught his attention. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Leah’s had another vision.” He explained, you nodded your head and thanked him before letting him get on his way to this very special even. You glanced over at the boys and raised a brow in curiosity from what it could be.

“Wanna go to church, boys?”

“You know me—downright pious.”

\+ + +

It wasn’t too long ago the church was crowded with people who were here to celebrate the joyous ceremony of a wedding. But the pews were filled up with people to hear about what Leah had seen. And it wasn’t good. You leaned back against the wall and listened to Pastor David as he spoke gave the information about another demon attack that was about to come. If only Chuck could have been as helpful to you like Leah was for this town.

“Three miles off Talmadge Road.” David began to speak, but his daughter leaned forwards whisper a correction in the man’s ear. “Five miles. There are demons gathered. I…don’t know how many, but a lot. So, who’s going to join me?”

Rob raised his arm first, eager to join another fight to take down the enemy. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Someone’s got to cover Rob’s ass.” Paul said as he raised his hand in the air. He flashed the man a joking smile from the harmless jab

“We’re in, Padre.” Dean added the three of you into this fight, thinking it was only right.

“Thank you. I’d like to offer a prayer.” David said, he lead the group to looking down at the ground and shutting their eyes to show respect. “‘Our Father in Heaven—”

“Yeah, not so much.” The oldest Winchester made a small joke underneath his breath.

Any other day you would have scolded him for being rude, what came out from your mouth was an accidental giggle, you didn’t realize you had laughed and started smiling before all eyes were on you and the room went eerily silent. Everyone, even Leah and David, were staring at you with a disrespectful glares from what you did. You composed yourself and muttered an apology, and just a few moments later, you heard the old wooden pews creak as people shifted back in their seats to listen to the rest of the preacher’s prayer.

You let out a quiet sigh from your unexpected behavior and looked at the crowd to see that everyone went back to their position. But when you looked up at Leah, who was sitting at the very first pew next to her father, you swore you caught her smirking…like she thought it was funny, too.

\+ + +

You, the boys and five others headed out to the demons’ compound that wasn’t too far out from town and a bit of a walk through the woods. It was an easy presumption that’s where most of them have been coming and going since they decided to pick Blue Earth. All of you split up and took different directions of the house to catch them off guard, and with the demon knife, you were ready for a bit of payback for what they did to you. But things started off a bit rough. All it took was one wrong move and it was all over from there.

Demons came out from just about every part of the house to greet you. You managed to take down just about every one that came your way, but you were caught off guard by the last one when it jumped out from behind you when you made the stupid mistake to approach an area without checking it first when you noticed Sam got taken down by a demon himself. Both of you pinned, but thanks to that handy enochian spell, David and Dylan saved you. After that, it was smooth sailing.

You headed out of the house with a more survivors than casualties as you cleaned the blood off the knife with your pant leg. A smile spread across your face as you let out a breathy sigh. Dean gave you a look, wondering what you were happy about.

“I guess that’s what it’s like, huh?” You wondered as you headed for the Impala with the boys walking in sync. Sam asked what you meant by that. “Having more survivors than dead bodies to take care of. Oh, and having backup that doesn’t suck so much is good, too.”

You lightly jabbed the younger Winchester in the side as he let out a sarcastic laugh, not finding your joke the least bit funny. You handed him the knife for safekeeping as you made it to the Impala first. After a day of kicking ass, you were in the mood for a beer, but before you could grab a van from the cooler, you looked up to see Dylan was heading over after he called out your name.

“Hey. So, um,” Dylan started asking a question, but he seemed a bit nervous. You gave him a smile, making him more confident from the favor he wa about to ask. “Is—is that—is that cool that I get a ride back with you guys?”

“Hey, you’ve saved my ass twice already. One more time, you can drive.” Dean chuckled out as he grabbed a beer for himself and his brother. You scoffed at the offer and looked over at the other group to see they were heading off back into town. Dean innocently grabbed another can and tossed it to the younger man, who was too young to drink, but he

do a good job. And what kid his age hasn’t sipped on one or two during his school days. “Hey, you earned it. Don’t tell your mom.”

“Oh, believe me—I will not.” Dylan promised as he eagerly opened up the can to take his first sip.

You stood next to the younger man and cheered with him for a job well done before following suit and getting a taste of your own drink. Everything seemed to have been peaceful between the four of you. You leaned against the Impala and stretched out your legs so they were at a weird angle As you began enjoying the few moments of silence and the adrenaline rush of a job well done. What happened next…it caught you off guard, it unfolded right in the blink of an eye.

You heard a scream and a quiet thud of the nearly full beer can hit the leaves before you saw Dylan’s terrified face looking back at you, begging for your help, all before he disappeared underneath the car. Your eyes went wide as you let go of your own drink, you dropped to your knees and bent below to see what had attacked him. It was a demon. You tried your hardest to pull Dylan free, but you were too weak compared to his body weight. Sam yanked the demon out as Dean circled around the car and tried to help you free the kid from the woman’s embrace. She did finally let go, when the both of them were dead.

You could feel yourself inhaling a sharp breath when Dylan was free, but from the blood around his neck area, it was safe to assume he was far too gone to be saved. “Damn it!” You wanted to scream it on the top of your lungs for what you let happen to this poor kid. But all what came out was a pitiful whisper.

\+ + +

The very next morning was Dylan’s funeral and you protested the idea of setting foot anywhere near the church after what you let happen. But the boys kept insisting that you should pay your respect to his parents after what happened in the woods. It was an accident, they told you. Nobody would have suspected she was hiding underneath the car. While you knew they felt guilty for what happened, after losing so many people to this lifestyle, it got easier—in the sense that your happiness and ability to care for others started to dwindle into nothing. For some reason you had replayed the moment over and over again in your head last night. Along with the little girl you saw yesterday making salt rounds with her parents like it was some great activity for the whole family.

Neither one of them should have been involved in this fight, they were just children. The boys grew up in this lifestyle to fear just about anything that seemed like a threat and take it down before it could hurt anyone else. But you were different. Maybe that’s why you were taking this so hard of seeing a town being turned upside down…and kept thinking there was still hope out there to make things right. Because you were too stupid to know anything else.

You gritted your teeth and wanted to stomp your feet like a child the entire ride to the church, but you made it. It was a sunny morning with a clear blue sky, a perfect day for a funeral. You stood outside between the open doors and watched as Dylan’s casket was lowered to the table at the front of the church before the pallbearers walked back to their respectable spots. This was your fault, you kept telling yourself. He wouldn’t be up there if you just look down at the right time to give them the warning. You could have pushed him away and threw yourself at the demon. You had a get out of death free card now. Lucifer wouldn’t dare hurt his new vessel.

You let out a quiet sigh and turned around in your spot when you heard heels clicking off the pavement. You could feel your face drop into a sympathetic stare when you saw Jane and Rob, Dylan’s grieving parents, heading inside the church with their arms wrapped around one another for support. You felt your heart pound a little faster at the sight of Jane with her tear stained eyes and smudged mascara as she wept for her only son’s sudden death.

“Ma’am, I’m just,” You stared at the woman with the type of expression that you hoped would show the parents of how much your apology meant to them. But you stopped yourself for a split second when you felt the threat of tears to come out. You managed to compose yourself before you could like a complete fool and finished your thought. “I’m very sorry.”

“You know,” Jane stared at you directly in the eye to show you how she felt about you right now. As if her words wouldn’t feel like knives from what she was about to say next. “He was with you. This is your fault.”

Rob whispered his wife’s name underneath his breath from how she placed her grief onto you, he ushered her inside and gave you an apologetic look at Jane’s outburst. But the man couldn’t stop himself at the venom seeping into his eyes. You quickly looked away. The three of you did get his child kill, he could only be so pleasant to you. Sam told you that everything would be all right as Dean reach out to rest a hand on your backside in a comforting manner. The three of you headed into church as the memorial was about to begin. As you took a seat in the last row, you couldn’t help but think about the way Rob looked at you. He had every right to hate you. But you wondered what he would do if he knew you shared a trait with the enemy in town.

“I wish I knew what to say. But I don’t.” David had the unfortunate honor of speaking in front of the crowd and telling the memory of the young man who sat in the open casket. His face was blocked by a bouquet of flowers that were donated for this unfortunate occasion. He cleared his throat and looked over at the grieving parents to give his condolences. “I’m so sorry, Jane. Rob. There are no words. Dylan…I don’t know why this happened. I don’t know why any of this is happening. I got no easy answers. But what I do know is—”

David tried to transition the speech into something more hopeful for the townspeople as he got ready to speak of a bible passage that might help with the somber mood. But the man found himself cut off mid sentence when he watched as his daughter collapsed to the floor. You heard the crowd automatically break into a murmur of whispers after several gasped in surprise at what happened. You leaned forward in your seat to see what was going on. In the middle of the aisle Leah laid on her backside, she looked like she was shaking as her father dropped to his daughter’s side, not seeming all that fazed with the episode she was going through. You furrowed your brow at how it seemed like she was having a epileptic seizure. It was just a moment later before the woman got herself back to normal as her father helped her up into a sitting position. She tried to stand herself up, but David kept her still, saying to take it easy.

“Dad, it’s Dylan.” Leah managed to speak after she regained her stamina back. Her father ushered her that she needed to rest for a few moments longer, thinking her episode was brought on from the stress of the unexpected death. She shook her head and tried to explain the good news she had for everyone from the vision that came to her. “No, listen. Dylan’s coming back.”

You found yourself sitting back down in your seat from what she said. The angels must have felt the faith drop in the town after the unexpected death. All it took was a whisper to Leah’s ear for her to speak about the great things that were about to come if they cooperated. She composed herself and switched places with her father so she was now standing in front of the crowd with her hands neatly folded against her stomach. She gave the couple a reassuring smile from what she was about to say.

“Jane, Rob…it’s going to be okay. You’ll see Dylan again.” Leah told them the good news. It seemed that not all hope was lost as Jane clutched her husband’s hand from what she heard. But there was always a fine line to these kind of things. “When the final day comes, judgement day, he’ll be resurrected, and you’ll be together again. We’ll all be together—with our loved ones. We’ve been chosen. The angels have chosen us. And we will be given paradise on earth. All we have to do is follow the angels’ commandments.”

Nobody questioned with what Leah had told them, she was like their own little God leading them to the slaughter. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement and waited for whatever these angels might want them to do next. And like a good old Catholic town, there was to be a few rules set up to keep things pure and from sin. You and the boys headed out of church when everyone was dismissed, you rolled your eyes from what was going on here. You wanted to be supportive, but this was getting out of control. This didn’t make any sense to you of why angels from above would be using a town for their own benefit. Maybe they wanted this demon problem fixed so they called upon a prophet, that’s the best excuse your brain was coming up with.

“No drinking no gambling, no premarital sex? Dean, they just basically outlawed ninety percent of your personality.” Sam seemed pretty confused with the harsh set of laws being put down. He tried to make a joke with his brother, thinking the man would have made a remark about how little fun this place was becoming. Dean shrugged his shoulders, not sure what the big deal was all about. “So, uh…you’re cool with it?”

“I’m not cool. I’m not not cool. It’s—Look, man, I’m not a prophet. We’re not locals. It’s not my call.” Dean said. He seemed awfully relaxed with the rules that were set up around the place. You slowly looked away from the man and back to his brother, both of you were confused at his new sudden change of heart. Dean glanced back over at the church, his head buzzing with the words that Leah had said, he decided to indulge in his curious thoughts. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion when you watched Dean head over to the church and disappeared from your sight. You weren’t sure why he was going in there. Maybe he was in the mood to make a few confessions with this newfound behavior that was nothing like him. Dean would do just about anything to rebel against authority, it was in his nature. But today it seemed like the man would do just about anything if someone asked him to. Your eyes narrowed slightly on the church, whatever he was doing in there, you didn’t have a good feeling about this.

\+ + +

Sam headed off to the bar, Dean was at Church and Cas wasn’t answering his phone. What was a girl to do? You decided to kill some time and do a bit of research to figure out what might be the reason for the sudden surplus of demons surrounding this small town. You gotten so far as an hour into browsing the internet before it got shut off, not too long after that, the cells disconnected you from the outside world. They said it was for safety, you were pissed off. You were hoping to call Bobby for some help to see if he could be a second pair of hands. But it seemed you were on your own for this one. After leaving the boys a note about where you were going to be for the rest of the afternoon, it was off to the library for some good old fashion book research. This was going to take forever. And time wasn’t your friend.

You’ve spent the next few hours by yourself in the back of the library with nobody to disturb you and the several dusty books you pulled off the shelf. You had two books open and a few others pushed off to the side, ready for whenever you got to them. While you were a bit annoyed at the tedious work ahead of you, part of you had missed the way you used to do things back when you would do research for the boys. You did part of your research on the computer and the other part of it stuck in the mythology section of your local library. Today you were in the religious section, trying to figure out the reason why demons were tearing apart this little town in Minnesota. There had to be some sort of explanation to what was going on here. No other town in the state had lit up with this many demons without a supportive reasons.

“Well, aren’t you a busy bee.”

Your attention was caught off guard from the voice that suddenly broke your concentration away from a bible passage you were reading about. You could feel a bit of a smile spread across your lips in politeness to see that it was Leah. She stood at the head of the wooden table you were sitting at, you noticed she wasn’t holding any books. “You look better.” You complimented her, taking notice of how she didn’t look as fatigue as she was back in the church. She gave you a smile and said thank you. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the books, it seemed the preacher’s daughter took notice of all the different version of bibles and book of revelations spread around the place. “Uh, how are you feeling? I guess that angel stuff really takes it out of you.”

“Can’t complain. I know you and the brothers have it much worse.” Leah said, shrugging off her little episode she had back in the church. You nodded your head and gave her a smile before looking back down at the passage you were reading. As you reached for your pen to quickly jot something down, your eyes jumped back to her when she spoke again. “So, what’s going on here, Y/N? Looks like you’re doing some research.”

“Yeah, I wanted to see if I could find a reason to what’s going on here. Most of the things going on lately have been biblical related. Demons don’t just go haywire for the hell of it.” You replied, your tone coming with a bit of humor from what you said next. “Unlike you, I don’t have an angel on my shoulder telling me the future. Must be nice being chosen.”

“Must be hard being half demon. And knowing you’re the reason why Lucifer walks free.” Leah’s words made you look up from your book. Your facial expression dropped into a bit of panic as you looked around the empty part of the library, suddenly fearful that someone might have heard what she said. You quickly looked over at her, your facial expression turning into anger at what she said out into the open. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t dare say something like that. I know how much you are trying to fight it. But, if I may say, for someone who is apart of this wonderful journey to paradise, you have very little faith in our Father.”

“I’m not a child of God, Leah. You should know that. And as for faith, I did have it for a while…” You admitted to the woman. You let go of your pen so it would fall to the spine of the open book and placed your hands on the table, your fingers your fingers entwining together as you looked up at her. “But I recently discovered that God doesn’t care anymore. So why should I? Why should I sit back and watch two people that I love fight to the death? I hate to break it to you, sister, but you’re not chosen for the greater good. You’re just doing the angels’ dirty work by taking care of these demons. Sam and Dean are the ones who really matter. You and I are gonna be the ones who suffer.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. You need to have faith in the right side. Yes, things are going to get bad. But after we win—and we will—the planet gets handed over to the chosen, and it’s finally peaceful. No monsters, no disease, no death. You’re just…with the people you love.” Leah gave you the grand world of paradise. You scoffed quietly underneath your breath and looked away from her. For someone like you, if Michael won, the world wouldn’t be sunshine and rainbows for someone like you. “There’s hope for you, Y/N. You can be granted paradise, too. It just matters which side you choose. And if I were someone like you, I would choose the right side.”

You found her words haunting and less helpful. She decided the conversation between the both of you was done. You tried shaking off her warning as you glanced back down at your book, wondering if you might find something which was helpful. Out of habit, your eyes dropped to where your pen was pointing and read the passage.

"But there were also false prophets among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you. They will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the sovereign Lord who bought them—bringing swift destruction on themselves. Many will follow their depraved conduct and will bring the way of truth into disrepute.” (2 Peter 2:1-2) 

\+ + +

You made it back to the motel a little after dark, not sure of what you had read after your little talk with Leah had to do anything. When the end of the world came, the bible said false prophets would mingle with others…to spread the world of Satan. You decided that she was just trying to be helpful, in that overbearing and creepy Christian way of hers. You did have a deal intact with the angels if you somehow got Dean to say yes to Michael. But there was no way you would ever do such a thing. You wanted to make sure the world didn’t go in flames and half the population was sent to the pearly gates. You knew there was a way to stop Lucifer, and you hoped it would come to you before it was too late.

Dean and his unusual behavior made you swerve away from your own motel room when you got back and see how he was doing. You were hopeful a little alone time would have done the trick to get him back this normal mindset. Knocking on the motel door, you stepped inside to see that the man was quietly sitting on his bed, lost in his own personal thoughts. He gave you a simple look over before he shut his eyes once more, letting the room fall back into silence. You wandered around, not sure if he really wanted you here, but you decided to break the mood by talking about a few more rules that had come up when you were gone.

“Where’s Sam? It’s almost curfew.” You asked. Dean shrugged his shoulders, mumbling that he wasn’t too sure about where the man had gone almost all afternoon. He shut his eyes and went back to his own thoughts. You looked over at him to see he was sitting upright in bed with his arms crossed over his chest and legs spread out. He looked peaceful, but you found yourself speaking once more again about the more rules being put in place. “You hear they shut down the cell towers?”

“No.” Dean answered as he rubbed his eyes. “That’s uh, news to me.”

“Yeah. No cable, internet. Total cut off from the ‘corruption of the outside world.’” You said as you even put the effort to make air quotes around the words you read off a flyer someone had handed you when walking home. Dean’s response was a shrug, he didn’t even made the effort to give you a verbal response. “Don’t you get it? They’re turning this place into some kind of fundamentalist compound.”

“No, I get it.” Dean said, but he sounded like he was wrong bored with this conversation.

“And all you got for me is a ‘hmm’?” You questioned the man. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I get it, Y/N. I do. I just don’t care.” The oldest Winchester came out with the truth about how he really felt with what was going on here. You furrowed your brow and looked at the man like he’d just grow a second head. Dean swung his legs over the bed and dropped his hand down to his thigh, unsure of what you wanted him to say. “What difference does it make?”

“It makes a hell of a—” Your voice started to rise from his defeated attitude that felt like it was coming out of nowhere. Dean narrowed his eyes slightly on you, like he was already growing bored with his conversation. You walked over to the bed his brother had claimed and sat yourself down next to him, somehow hopeful you could talk some sense into him. “At what point does this become too far for you? Stoning? Poisoned kool-aid? These angels are toying with these people.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Angel world, angel rules, sweetheart.”

“You hated their guts since you first saw them!” You hissed at him. “Now you don’t even care. Since when are you okay with this?”

“Since the angels got the only lifeboats on the Titanic.” Dean said. He proved his point and got himself up from the bed to walk over to the motel and fix himself another cup of coffee. “I mean, who exactly is supposed to come along and save these people? It was supposed to be us. We can’t do that.”

“So, what, you—you want to—you want to just stop fighting, roll over?” You asked him in a dead serious tone. Dean turned around in his spot, and with a simple shrug, it seemed that the man had took the plan into consideration. You found your lips flinching into a grim smirk as you let out a scoff. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not, Y/N?” Dean asked you.

“Because you can’t do this.”

“Actually, I can.”

“No, you can’t. You can’t do this to me.” You told him. You pushed yourself to your feet and looked at the man straight in the eye, wanting him to see how much you needed him to keep holding on. It was you and the Winchesters against the world. He couldn’t let you down after so long of fighting. “I’ve got one thing—one thing keeping me going. And that’s you, you idiot. I don’t care what they say. We’re supposed to be in this together. We’re supposed to be—"

“Soulmates? Is that what you’re gonna say?” Dean cut you off, finishing your thought. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes, giving the man a clear answer that it was yes. You and him were meant to be together, but it was all for the wrong reasons. You wanted to defeat the odds, but the man wasn’t so hopeful. “This ain’t a fairy tale, sweetheart. Nobody cares about our happy ever after. We were screwed from the start.”

“So are you saying the past two years have been a waste?” You asked him.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore.” Dean admitted with another shrug. “All I know is that I’m tired of fighting. There’s no way out of this. I’m sorry.”

"Sorry for what? Sorry for being a coward? You think you’re the only one white-knuckling it here, Dean?” You asked him. You looked at him straight in the eye when your personality began to change into something that you didn’t recognize. With this new persona, you spoke words that you didn’t realize would have serious consequences when they fell right from your mouth. "Poor Dean. His only job is stopping himself from saying one little word. Boo hoo, you. It must suck. Meanwhile, here I am, trying my hardest to not change into the thing we hate the most.”

“You know, you keep hounding at me to keep fighting a losing cause. But I gotta say, you’re doing a pretty lousy job here, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t notice what’s been going on with you.” Dean was sly with how he spoke. While his tone was warm, his words were icy cold. You froze in your spot and looked at him with a bit of surprise. “The holy water, you avoiding devil traps. I know what’s going on. I’ve been trying for

to figure out what I can do to save you. But I got nothing. There’s no point anymore. We’re all screwed. But there is one way…”

“Don’t.” You warned him. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Y/N, we don’t got much options left here.” Dean argued with you. “And I’m grabbing the hand for whichever son of a bitch that’s gonna least screw us over.”

You could feel your hands clenching into a tight fist from what he said. You tried your hardest to bite onto your tongue that was like a snake, urging to bite the poisonous venom into him. But you were too late. You hit an all time low from whom you brought up and how you spoke about them with such carelessness.

“You’ve been screwed up since you stepped back into her life.” You said with an eerily quiet voice. Dean raised a brow at you, wondering who you meant by that. “Lisa. You thought her kid was yours and something changed in you. Suddenly she made you want this normal, apple-pie life. And since you couldn’t get it, you decided to lie down like a dog. Wasn’t too long ago you ripped your little brother apart for wanting that. And look how that turned out.”

“Took my chances with you and look how it’s turning out.” Dean snapped back at you.

“You’re so much like your mother.” You suddenly hissed at the man. “You wanna take the easy way out and screw everyone else over when you’re gone.”

“Is that you talking, Y/N? Or is that your demon side acting like a bitch to me?” Dean wondered as he lifted a finger from his coffee cup to point at you. You looked at the man with a surprised expression from the kind of language that he used on you. Even though what you said about his mother, he had every right to go where it hurt. He rolled his eyes and placed his cup down, exchanging it for his jacket as he headed for the door. "I need some air.”

You warned him that it was past curfew, but he showed you how much he cared about the rules by slamming the door behind him. You let out a sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. Left alone in the room and your own thoughts, you wrapped your arms tighter around your body from the horrible things that you said that couldn’t be taken back. Out of all the things you could go for, you brought up his mother and threw what she did right in his face like it was a mistake.

\+ + +

Fighting as a couple was natural, you say things you don’t mean and let the other person to cool off before you apologize. You and Dean had gotten into a thousand different times about the stupidest stuff. But this had to be the worst argument between the both of you yet. Each of you had said things about one another that were the absolute worst. Maybe he was right, you were getting worse. Your mouth was just a little evidence he needed. If only you told him about your plan. That could have sparked some hope back into him. But here you sat alone in your motel room, your only company was a few old dusty books. You let out a sigh and opened up the book, your eyes wandering down to the specific page you opened up to.

Your mind wouldn’t leave the idea that something bad was going on here. Either this town was being abused by angels, or Leah was lying about who she was working for. There was all sorts of passages in bibles and the book of revelations about how the end of times would bring false prophets. But from what you read, they didn’t speak about angels. And it wouldn’t explain all the demon attacks. Unless you might have been looking at this the wrong way. You noticed the passage talked about two beasts. One of them hideous, the other a little lamb leading people to the slaughter. “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves.”

“I got your message.” You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a voice appear out of nowhere. You quickly turned around to see who it was as you pressed the book close to your chest. The person standing across the room as he looked into your fridge was Cas. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes in relief. “It was long, your message. And I find the sound of voice grating.”

“Right. ‘Cause you’re a smooth talker.” You muttered underneath your breath. Rolling your eyes again, you were about to look back down at your book to keep reading, but your eyes wandered back up again when you heard Cas fumbling around. He was moving back and forth, like he couldn’t walk. You furrowed your brow when you realized there was something very off about him tonight. “Are you…drunk?”

“No!” Cas said. You raised a brow when he tried to take a step forward, only he lost his footing and nearly fell on his face. The angel managed to catch himself and decided then he should change his answer. “Yes.”

“What the hell happened to you?” You asked him.

“I found a liquor store.” Cas explained. He rested his head against the cold divider that felt good on his pounding headache. You asked him what next. “And I drank it. Why’d you call me?”

“Whoa. There you go, buddy. Easy.” You reached out your arms to help balance the angel as he began walking forward to you with each wobbly step. You gave him a smile as you helped him to a standing position. “Are you okay?”

Cas waved his fingers at you, as if he wanted you to come closer. You gave him a confused look as you leaned over so he could whisper his answer into your ear. But it wasn’t what you would have expected in a million years. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” He said. You backed away and gave him a glare from what he told you. Cas didn’t looked amused as he sat himself down on the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“There have been these demon attacks, massive, right on the edge of town, and we can’t figure out why they’re—”

“Any sign of angels?” Cas asked, cutting you off.

“Sort of. They’ve been speaking to this prophet.” You explained to him. “This girl, Leah Gideon. But I’ve been doing some reading and—”

“She’s not a prophet.” The angel told you.

“The boys are pretty sure she is.” You said. “She’s got visions, headaches—the whole package.”

“The names of all the prophets—they’re seared into my brain.” Cas answered for your suspicion that was exactly right. “Leah Gideon is not one of them.”

“Thought so. There was just something…off about her. I was doing some research and—”

“She’s not a false prophet, either. It’s just one of the very misconceptions your bible has.” Cas said, cutting you off yet again. You threw the book down to the bed and looked at him with a look of annoyance on his face. “But she is a danger to this town.”

\+ + +

Through the rest of the night and to the early morning, you spent your time with a tipsy Sam and a drunk angel, trying to figure out what exactly Leah’s ultimate goal was here in this small town. Sam had started to grow worried when his brother hadn’t returned home a few hours after curfew was placed. You were tempted to get the burden off your chest about the fight that you had with him, but you bit your tongue, knowing just the thought of what you said made a rush of guilt rushed over you all again. Dean was a big boy, he could take care of himself. But with Cas’ warning that things were only going to get worse with the matter of time, you could feel yourself starting to grow more nervous as time went on. But the man arrived back to the motel later in the morning, catching the three of you off guard while your nose was stuffed in a book.

“We went out looking for you—” Sam jumped up from the couch when he noticed his brother had arrived safely back home. But he found himself stopping mid-sentence when his eyes wandered down to the man’s hands, and taking notice of a substance that made him grow nervous. You slowly looked over to see what the fuss was all about. Your eyes widened slightly when you caught sight of the blood that stained his hands. “You all right?”

“Yeah. It’s—It’s not my blood. Paul’s dead.” Dean informed you and the younger man about what he had witnessed last night. You found the book slipping out from your grip as you felt yourself inhale a sharp breath from the news. Sam seemed taken back himself. He’d just spent a few hours with the man sharing a bottle at his bar. Everything seemed fine when he left. “Jane shot him.”

“It’s starting.” Cas said, talking to you and the younger Winchester.

“What’s starting?” Dean asked with confusion. He looked at his brother for an answer before he turned his attention to the angel that had been eerily quiet. Whenever they left him a message, the angel would be at their side in matter of moments. “Where the hell have you been?”

Cas looked over at the man and gave him the blunt truth, “On a bender.”

“Did he—Did you say ‘on a bender’?” Dean wondered as he looked at the angel with a confused expression from what he just heard.

“Yeah.” Sam mumbled. “He’s still pretty smashed.”

“It is not of import.” Cas said, not wanting to talk about his hangover. You couldn’t help yourself but let out an inappropriate chuckle as you shook your head from what was going on here. “We need to talk about what’s happening here.”

“Well, I’m all ears.” Dean offered as he went to the sink to wash his hands.

“Well, for starters…” Sam sat back down on the couch and gave his brother the bit of news that you had gathered last night all on your own. While Dean might have seen a softer side to the woman, you gotten a strange vibe off her that turned out to be right. “Leah is not a real prophet.”

“What is she, exactly?” Dean asked.

“The whore.” Cas answered for the man.

“Wow. Cas,” The oldest Winchester was caught off guard from the response as he grabbed a rag from the counter to wipe his hands clean. “Tell us what you really think.”

“She rises when Lucifer walks the earth. ‘And on her forehead was written a name of mystery: Babylon the great, mother of prostitutes and of earth’s abominations.’ She’s called the whore not in the sense she is sexually promiscuous with others, but because she’s unfaithful to the man she’s supposed to worship—God. ‘And she shall come bearing false prophecy.’” You explained to the man as you set down the book you’d been reading before he came in. Setting it down on the table, you tapped your finger to the drawing to give Dean a better idea. “Cas says she has the power to take a human’s form, read minds. Book of revelation calls her ‘the whore of Babylon.’ Whore is catchy and to the point, really.” 

“The real Leah was probably killed months ago.” Sam speculated.

“What about the demons attacking the town?” Dean asked, bringing up a good point.

“They’re under her control.” Cas explained to the man. You wondered if the nifty exorcism that everyone had been using was the real deal, but come to find out, she was lying to them for the fun of it. “Fake. It actually means ‘You breed with the mouth of a goat.’” The angel had gotten a kick out of the joke as he smiled to himself. He looked over at the three of you to see if you had found it just as funny, but you looked nothing short of confused, the brothers stared at him with a blank expression. “It’s funnier in enochian.”

“So the demons smoking out—that’s just a con?” Dean asked. “Why? What’s the endgame?”

“What you just saw—innocent blood spilled in God’s name. And you heard all that Heaven talk to try and win over these people.” You said. “She’s manipulating them. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“To slaughter and kill and sing peppy little hymns.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He pushed himself back to his feet and headed back over to the counter and threw the towel back down where he found it. “Awesome.”

“Her goal is to condemn as many souls to hell as possible. And it’s just the beginning.” Cas said, giving the three of you the unfortunate news. They weren’t on their way to paradise, but a one way ticket to eternal damnation. “She’s way on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit.”

“All right. So, then,” Dean asked the important question. “How do we go pimp of Babylon all over this bitch?”

The angel looked over at you and Sam, as if you had any clue to figuring out how to solve this problem and kill a whore. You shrugged your shoulders as you looked over at the younger Winchester, but when you did, you noticed from the corner of your eye that Cas had disappeared from your sight. You didn’t know why, but his tactics of leaving had annoyed you every single time, you should have gotten used to it by now. The three of you waited around for a little while until Cas got back. You changed spots so you were now sitting on the couch with Sam as Dean took your seat to occupy himself. Your feet were occupying an empty corner of the table so you could rest the book on your thighs to balance it better. As you drifted off into your own private thoughts, you didn’t realize your odd habit was rubbing someone the wrong way.

Your eyes wandered away from the pages when you felt someone’s burning gaze upon you for more than just the appropriate few seconds. Sam was occupied with reading a book of his own, and Cas was still gone, leaving one culprit for the rude behavior. Dean was sitting to your right in the chair but his focus was only on you. From the annoyed expression on his face, it seemed the man hadn’t come back to the motel room after spending the night away from you with a clear head. Whatever you did annoyed him to no extent.

“Mind getting your grubby feet off the table?” Dean asked you. “It’s not very lady like of you.”

“I could, if you just say the magic word—Oh, wait.” You stopped yourself for a second as you pretend to think for a moment before you decided to give him another jab after what he did. “I forgot. Mommy wasn’t around long enough teach you manners.”

Dean wasn’t the least bit amused from the dead mother jokes as he grunted a not so nice word underneath his breath. You retorted back not even a second later. Sam, however, found himself starting at the two of you with the utmost confusion from the sudden behavior that seemed like the polar opposite from what he was seeing not too long ago. Both of you stared at one another with looks, and if they were deadly enough to kill someone, you and his brother would be dead on the ground in the matter of seconds. He found himself deliberating if he wanted to break the tense silence to ask what was going on here. But before he could get to the bottom of this very small problem, compared to what you were dealing with right now, Cas had arrived back after his journey somewhere. The three of you looked down at the table to see the angel had placed down what appeared to be a wooden stick with a sharpened edge.

“The whore can be killed with that.” Cas explained to all of you. Dean picked it up to examine it out of curiosity. “It’s a stake made from a cypress tree in Babylon.”

“Great.” Dean said, thinking the worst of this was over. “Let’s ventilate her.”

“It’s not that easy.” The angel said, giving you a bit of bad news. He fetched a clean glass from the counter top and filled it with a glass of water to take a drink. “The whore can only be killed by a true servant of Heaven. Not you, Dean. Or me. Especially not Sam. And Y/N, of course, is an abomination. We’ll have to find someone else.”

“That’s a new one, I’ll give you that.” You said, kicking your feet off the table so you could now sit normally. You and the boys went silent for a moment, trying to figure out who could do the fun job of murdering a whore. It had to be someone who was a servant of Heaven, someone who spoke and devoted their life to the practice of spreading the gospel. “Could a pastor do it?”

\+ + +

Knowing there was someone in town who could do the dirty deed of killing a whore helped give you some confidence that not all was lost for this town. But it would be precious timing to get David on your side. All of you couldn’t go up to him with the accusation that his daughter wasn’t a prophet, but more, the whore of Babylon with her sole purpose to turn these townspeople against one another and send the rest to hell. It might clash with the promise of paradise. So all of you waited around until it was the right time. Night had fallen and Cas quietly spent the time tracking down the pastor until he found the perfect moment to confront the man. You and the boys waiting around for a little while, keeping yourselves occupied with random activities until the angel arrived back in your motel room with a special passenger, who looked confused as to how he managed to go from the outside street to your motel room.

“What the hell was that?” David questioned the angel with a very confused tone.

“Yeah, he wasn’t lying about the angel thing.” Dean said, knowing exactly what was must have going through his mind after Cas gave him the speal about being an angel of the Lord. “Have a seat, padre. We got to have a chat.”

You told the pastor everything; from how Leah wasn’t a prophet, the things she were saying and her promises were just empty lures to get this town to do exactly what she wanted. The reason why Paul was killed was because he didn’t abide by her rules. She made Jane believe if she killed the evil around her, it would help bring her closer to paradise and she could see her son again. Soon this town would be a bloodbath and everyone would be turning on one another. David listened to everything you said, but in the end, his answer was no. He didn’t want to believe his little girl was a monster, a whore for that matter.

"I’m sorry, but she’s not.” Dean told the man. “She’s the thing that killed your daughter.”

“That’s impossible.” David said, trying to deny the truth.

“But it’s true. And deep down, you know it.” Sam said. The pastor rubbed a hand with his face as he looked down at the piece of wood with a bit of a panicked expression. He knew there was something wrong with his daughter, from the way she was manipulating people and pointing out sinners. Telling his friends that the only way to get rid of them was to commit murder. “Look, we get it—it’s too much. But if you don’t do this, she’s going to kill a lot of people and damn the rest to Hell.”

“It’s just….” David spoke up, but he found himself growing quiet for a moment when Dean grabbed the stake up from the table and letting it linger in his gaze, as if the oldest Winchester wanted him to grab it. But he refused. “Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re a servant of Heaven.” Cas told the man.

“And you’re an angel.” David tried to argue with him.

Cas looked at the man with a straight face, “A poor example of one.”

\+ + +

Pastor David had agreed to your plan after he had come to terms that this town was being turned inside out, and the woman that he had called his daughter, was not that. But the idea of murdering someone that looked like Leah was giving him a bit of cold feet. You had to realize David was still human, and with his religious beliefs, it was going to be a heavy burden that he would carry around for the rest of his life. But you had a feeling the good he was about to do would outweigh the evil he would bring down by killing a whore. And if that didn’t do the trick, he could always go to confession and pray to a God that wasn’t listening anymore. The boys were back in the motel room getting David cleared on the plan as you headed out to the Impala to make sure all of you had everything you might need to take on Leah and her posse of demons.

You slammed the trunk shut after doubling checking once more and looked around the parking lot out of curiosity. It was empty, all except for a lonely angel who start on a bench with a nasty headache after his bender that he was probably regretting right about now. You looked inside the Impala to see the pill bottle you kept after downing a few from your shoulder injury. Grabbing the bottle, you warned the angel as you tossed it to him, and without fail, he got it.

“How many should I take?” He asked as he tried to read the instructions.

“You? I suggest you down the whole bottle. Best medical advice I can give.” You said, shrugging your shoulders when the angel thanked you. You knew he probably didn’t want to talk about it, but you decided to ease the conversation, and letting him know that he wasn’t alone. “I’ve been there. I know a thing or two about deadbeat dads from John. Hell, I’m an expert on parents who screw things up and leave you with the mess. Can’t talk to ‘em. Can’t ask them for help…I know that a little too well.“

Silence fell between the both of you for a moment as you crossed your arms over your chest. You observed Cas from the corner of your eye to see that he was thought his own thought, as if he hadn’t been doing that enough. When the both of you made eye contact, you gave him a smile, as if letting him know your offer was still on the table. Instead, the angel asked you a question. "How do you and the Winchesters do it?”

“I would say alcohol, but you clearly can’t handle yours.” You tried to crack a joke, but neither one of you made the attempt at cracking a smile. You found yourself pondering on the question. You weren’t handling anything well from your actions over the few weeks between the fighting and reckless behavior. But, like always, you bottled up your emotions and fears, deciding to instead live in the moment before it caught all up to you when you were alone. “On a good day you get to kill a whore.”

\+ + +

The promises of paradise would be those who had a soul that was pure, and would be willing to track down the sinners who deserved to die. Most of the town was completely empty and taking cover in the basement level of the church as Leah had her followers roundup whoever thought the angels thought were good enough for their after party. You just needed to get her alone for a chance of survival. Much as the boys protested the idea, you decided to throw yourself as the bait. All it took was some sweet talk before you got her cornered and have David shove the stake in her chest where it belonged. You found her with her followers getting ready with their guns and holy water, getting ready to fight a war that would never come. It took only a little bit of acting for Leah to become convinced that you had wanted to talk to her alone, about the little conversation you had before.

“I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had yesterday.” You started off the conversation as Leah lead you to a small office you lead her into that wasn’t too far away from the room with all her followers. She shut the door behind you, giving you a bit of privacy as you let out a deep breath. She gave you a curious expression, wondering what you were doing here. You only needed to get her here, and then the plan would be placed into action. “And I think you’re right.”

“About choosing a side you’re willing to fight for, Y/N?” Leah wondered. You nodded your head, and with that response, her lips stretched into a smile at what she thought was about to be accomplished with you. “You’re going to make Father very proud. You’ve saved yourself in paradise for doing this.”

“I have just one question. Isn’t it a sin to pretend you’re a prophet when you’re not? Because the father you’ve been preaching about hasn’t been ours, sister. I guess that makes you nothing but a whore. Right?” You presumed. Leah’s face fell from the term that you had called her, not only did she realized you had found out who she was, but you used the term on her that she didn’t quite get used to. “And don’t worry about little old me. I saved myself a comfy spot in sweet paradise. It doesn’t matter which team I’m rooting for. Because you see, there’s a new player in town. And I’m gonna make sure things go my way.”

Before Leah could make her grand escape, you tried grabbing her arm to pin her in place when David came into view with the stake. But the whore seemed to have proved herself superior. You could feel yourself being flung across the room and to a corner where you felt a wall cushion your fall. But Cas was here to save the day. He grabbed her and tried to pin her in place to give the pastor a better view. Leah tried her hardest to plead her way out of this. But he knew the truth.

“Daddy!” She pleaded with him. “Don’t hurt me!”

“Gedion, now!” Sam ordered.

David went for the move, but Leah had a few tricks up her sleeve. Chanting what sounded to be an echonican spell underneath her breath, Cas groaned in pain at what she done to him and fell to the floor, and just as the boys went in for her, she only needed to wave her arm before the Winchesters and David were thrown to the floor, giving her a chance to make a run for it. You spotted the stake on the ground. Before you could think it over, your instincts came in, you snatched it from the ground and began racing after her, despite the voices calling your name. You were playing for both sides, there had to be a way this would work.

You chased after Leah until she headed back to the basement where she would be safe with all of her followers to help keep her safe. “Help!” She cried out like a damsel she was pretending to be. “She’s a demon!”

Well, she wasn’t lying about that. You tried to get your way at her, but before you could, you felt Rob tackle you to the ground, making you lose your grip with the stake. If he wanted a fight, you would give him one. You swung your arm up and punched him hard enough to make the man tumble off of you, and before he could make another move when he got up, you quickly kicked him in the head before he got the chance to try and pull a move. You managed to push yourself to your feet and saw Leah was about to give the instructions to burn this place down the ground, with added storage in the closet. Before someone could light the fuse, Sam took Jane down. Which only left Leah, wherever she was.

You quickly looked over your shoulder to see Dean had tried to get the stake, but before he could, was knocked down to the floor. You made one more last attempt, before you could even reach it, you felt a sharp pain hit the back of your head after Leah made sure you were very far away when she threw you across the room without lifting a finger. It didn’t mean Dean was going to stop himself from trying one last time, Leah found it amusing.

“Please. Like you’re a servant of Heaven.” Leah said in a mocking tone as he bent down to straddle the man. She got up and close in his face to make him feel inferior. “This is why my team’s gonna win. You’re the great vessel? You’re pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It’s the end of the world. And you’re just gonna sit back and watch it happen.”

Dean didn’t listen to what she said. He swung up an arm and punched her when she was least expecting the move, giving him the advantage of grabbing the stake and shoving it into her chest. He gave her a smirk, pushing it even deeper to prove his point. “Don’t be so sure, whore.”

The oldest Winchester moved the body off of him and got out of the way before the effects started to take place. You watched as Leah’s body began to shake violently as the stake caught fire. You quickly shielded your face when it suddenly exploded, leaving a gaping hole in her wound. You slowly lowered your arm to see she was dead. A sigh of relief had fell from your mouth to a know this was done, but it only brought confusion from everyone who had witnessed the scene.

“But…I don’t understand.” Jane whispered, her voice broke the silent air that fell between all of you. “How are we supposed to get to paradise now?”

“I’m sorry.” You apologized to her as you slowly got yourself up from the ground, wincing slightly at the pain starting to settle from your head down to your back. “Pretty sure you’re headed in a different direction.”

You looked at Leah’s body for a second or two, knowing part of her plan had worked, a few people were going straight down to the pit after committing the crimes they did. There was no freeing themselves from the deadly sin of murder. But that was their own problem. You had a wounded angel and a beat up pastor on your hands. Each brother helped them outside as you busted through the emergency exit you spotted that lead you directly to the parking lot. You lead the small crowd as you quickly opened up the backseat door for the boys. Even with your distance just a few feet ahead of them, Sam saw what happened back there, and he wanted some answers for the thing that his brother could do.

“Dean, how did you do that?” Sam asked as he got David up to the top of the staircase and following behind the older man. Dean, however, pretended to be not sure what he meant by that. “Kill her.”

“Long run of luck held out, I guess.” Dean said, putting the blame for a weak excuse.

“Last I checked, she could only be ganked by a servant of Heaven.” Sam noted.

“Well, what do you want me to tell you?” Dean wondered. “I saw a shot. I went for it.”

You stepped out of the way for the boys to shove Cas and David into the back, giving you little room to squeeze. But it would have to do for now. You were about to get yourself into the side with Cas, but you found yourself stopping, wondering if your biggest fear was about to come true. You stopped the oldest Winchester from getting into the driver’s side from the question that you asked him out of the blue.

“Are you gonna do something stupid?” You asked him. Dean looked at you with a confused expression, not sure what you meant by that. “Like Michael stupid.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Dean said. “Give me a break.”

You rolled your eyes and got yourself into the backseat of the car without another word and slammed the door shut behind you. There was no way he could have done it without having just a thought about saying yes. Which meant you had no choice left. You had go through with your plan.

\+ + +

Who knew taking down a whore could be such painful work. The brothers were in their own motel room taking care of Cas and David, you were lying in bed with a dampened towel across your head, the warmth helping your small concussion that you must have gotten after getting your head hit a few times. You tried your hardest to make yourself relaxed as you kept your eyes closed to block out the dim fluorescent light coming from the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. You would have taken some painkillers, but you had given what Cas didn’t down to David. If you weren’t as tense like you were right now, sleep would be the easiest thing to come to you. But every muscle felt tense, like you were on edge with a constant anxiety that you couldn’t shake off. You let out a deep sigh as you tried to focus on something that made you happy. Yet it didn’t work. Your mind kept replaying the image of Dean killing Leah and how he managed to have done it without saying yes to Michael. This wasn’t good. It ruined your chances of stopping this.

A soft knock on the door caused you to jump away from your thoughts and back to the reality of the situation. You opened your eyes and called for whoever was on the opposite side of the door to go away, you weren’t in the mood for company. But it seemed they didn’t want to listen. You lifted your head up slightly from the pillow when the door cracked open slightly, just a second later, you were greeted by a face you thought didn’t want to see you. It was Dean. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position as the cloth fell from your head and down to your lap. Both of you had spent some time away from one another to process the outcome of this situation. You knew it would be only a matter of time before you had to talk about what happened.

“Mind if I come in for a minute?” He asked, you nodded your head. You moved your legs so they were crossed together, giving the man some room as he awkwardly walked around the room until he sat on the bed just a few feet apart from one another. Things between the both of you had been tense from the horrible things you said to one another. But the both of you couldn’t stay mad at one another for too long. Not with so many other things going on. He decided to start the conversation with something a bit easy. He reached out a hand to lightly brush a piece of hair out of your face, wanting to take a closer inspection of the cut on your forehead. “How’s your head feeling, sweetheart?”

“Still hurts like a bitch.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders as you placed the towel back to your forehead when a pounding sensation began again at the mention of it. You shut your eyes for a moment as you winced slightly in pain from a piercing sensation that lasted only for a moment before going back to a dull thud. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Your eyes opened when you heard the sound of something rattling in a bottle. Dean had come bearing gifts from what he was holding. Your lips stretched into appreciation at what you saw, a bottle of aspirin and some water. “Found some extra in the car. Thought you could use them more than Cas.” He said. You mumbled a thank you as you grabbed the bottle from him, You twisted off the top and tossed a few in your mouth before taking a sip of water, giving Dean a chance to speak without you to interrupt him. “Y/N, there’s something I wanna say…I was a dick to you. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. And for that—”

"No, I’m sorry.” You cut him off, shaking your head for what he was trying to do. You said some pretty nasty things that you felt could never touch what he mentioned, because it was all the truth. You put him down in the time of need when he was losing himself in the fight. Never did you take to consider his feelings and lack of hope for this situation. It was grim for all of you. But sometimes it didn’t hurt to try and listen to one another before you said something stupid. “I didn’t mean those things about your mom. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a total low blow. I mean it. If I could take it back, I would. Not to mention the whole Lisa thing. God, I hate myself just thinking about it. I feel like a complete bitch—”

“No, you’re right.” Dean agreed with you on that point. You stopped your rambling to look at the man sitting across from you, a slightly surprised look started to spread across your face. While there had been hints here and there about Dean and his quest for a happy life, you didn’t think it would have been lead by a woman he spent a weekend with almost ten years ago. He reached out his hand to take ahold of yours and gave it a squeeze. "The djinn case got me thinking. I mean, I’ll be honest, I wanted to stay there forever. You were so happy…you were my wife. The idea of settling down and having a couple rugrats didn’t seem so bad.”

Dean smiled slightly as he almost looked happy for a moment of time when he looked at you, almost as if he was still trying to find the woman in your facial expression. But she wasn’t there, it was just you staring back at him. The feeling didn’t last long as he continued on talking. “I buried it away for a while. Then Lisa came along again. And when the idea that Ben might have been mine changed something in me. I wanted that so badly. I wanted the chance to try and somehow have a part of my family that isn’t screwed to Hell.” He shrugged his shoulders as he tried his hardest to keep his composure. “Lately it’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“You know it’s never going to happen.” You whispered the painful truth. 

“I know, Y/N.” Dean agreed with you in a solemn tone. I know.”

”…At least, not with me.” You said, saying something that caught the man off guard. You let out a quiet sigh as you reached out your arms so you were now holding both of his hands with your own. Dean furrowed his brow from what you were trying to say. You opened your mouth, but the words that you wanted to say didn’t come out, they were stuck on your tongue, like they were desperately trying to cling to an ideal life that would never happen. Dean’s perfect life couldn’t be obtained if you were stuck to his side and letting fate dragging you down a path that would only doom everyone. So, you took baby steps with it to approach the bitter topic. “I know you love. And I love you, too. But…I can’t give you what you need. Not the way Lisa can.”

“What are you exactly trying to say here, sweetheart?’ Dean cautiously asked you. He didn’t want to hear the answer just as much as you didn’t want to say it.

"I don’t want to be with you anymore.” You forced yourself to say the words that had been sitting in the dark parts of your mind. While you had rehearsed them in your head with a strong tone, they came out shaky and with a weak tone. You looked away when Dean was caught off completely by surprise. He was feeling so down, he came here to apologize and try to work things out, but you just pushed him down deeper. And you were only making things worse the more you kept on talking. “I don’t think either one of us really loved each other. You wanted me because I was normal, and I loved you because you made me feel safe. And look at how we’re ending up.“

Dean stared at you like you had just told him the worst thing ever possible, and in his mind, you had just did. He said those things in anger about your relationship being a sham, a waste. But to hear it come out of your mouth made it feel like you had ripped his heart out and stomped on it, making him feel everything. “Well, here I thought I was being the dramatic one.” His tone was sharp as a knife as he roughly yanked your grip away from his as if you were poison to him. His lips stretched into a forced smirk as he stared at you with eyes glazed over. You sank down into the bed when you realized you might have pushed him over the edge to the point of no return from what he said next. “Like you said, we’re supposed to be in this together. I was angry about what I told you. I was stupid. I need you just as you need me, Y/N. I love you—”

“No, you don’t. You just want someone who will tell you that everything is going to be okay. I can’t do that anymore.” You said. Dean scoffed as he got up from the bed and started to slowly pace around, as if he was debating with himself about leaving. But he remained as he was. “You know it’s the truth, Dean. Even if we find a way to stop Lucifer…I won’t be here. So why waste your time with me if there’s something else better out there?”

"Because fighting is kind of—you know what? I don’t care. You want it that way? Fine.” Dean said, changing his thought process without giving much more of a fight. He threw his hands up in the air with defeat as he walked to the motel door. His last words that would be spoken to you were witnessed with his back turned to you. “I give up. With you, with everything.”

You winced at the slamming of the door that made your entire room shake from his violent outburst. You slowly tore your gaze away from the the door and to the floor where your two measly bags of clothes laid zipped up, waiting for you to grab them. But the sight was beginning to grow hazy as you could feel yourself at the brink of tears. It wasn’t pushing Dean away that was making you emotional, or the thought of pushing him into the arms of another woman. (If that were even possible.) But it was the fact that you couldn’t give him a goodbye that he deserved or kiss him one last time. You and him were over. And you had to come to terms with that.

At the dead of night, you were gone, nothing but a simple not explaining things for the brothers and Cas of what you were about to do. When they read it, you would already be halfway across the state.

\+ + +

It was a few days after leaving when you managed to track her down. You had to admit, the neighborhood that she chose was sweet, it reminded you a lot of home. It was sweet and safe. You inhaled a deep breath as you looked over at the passenger’s seat to see the envelope with her name written in neat cursive was waiting for you to deliver it. You licked your lips and forced yourself to reach out for it and grabbed it. But that was far as you made it before you froze up in fear. What the hell were you actually doing? Here you sat alone in a car you stolen, sitting right across Lisa Braden’s house with a letter addressed to her. Why didn’t you just knock on her door and ask if she just wanted to take your leftovers. But that wasn’t it. There was so much more to it than Dean would ever understand.

Inhaling a deep breath, you forced yourself to get out of the car and walk across the street. You spotted a crisp white mailbox with her house number on it. Without a moment of hesitance, you opened it up and slipped it into the slot without anyone noticing. When she would check the mail tomorrow afternoon, she would find the letter, explaining everything without the detail. So when Dean showed up on her doorstep a few months from now, it wouldn’t be a shock. You walked back to the car and sat back down in the driver’s seat. You were doing this for Dean, you kept telling yourself. He deserved a chance of happiness that you couldn’t give him. Your grip around the steering wheel tightened to the point where you almost thought your fingers would break off.

You reminded yourself once more that you never really loved Dean—it was just how fate wanted things to be.

\+ + +

Dear Lisa,

You might not know me, but I know you. We have a friend in common, his name is Dean Winchester. (And I realize as I write this out about how creepy this sounds. Let me explain myself.) My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m his girlfriend. Or…by the time you’re reading this, his ex. I know it’s weird. Why would I be leaving you a letter and telling you this information? Because you and I have something else in common. I think you know Dean is a special man. He doesn’t let many people in, especially not women. Both of us have made an impact on his life for the better. I’ll be honest, when I first heard about you, I was a bit jealous from the way that he spoke about you. But after getting to know you, I realized what was so great about you. You have something that I could never give him. And that’s a happy life.

When he first met Ben, he was instantly taken back to see how much he could he see himself in your son. You have a great kid, Lisa. He’s sweet, smart and a lot like Dean. And if I have learned anything in life, it’s that family isn’t about blood. It can be with anyone if you let them into your life. I hope you will do that if Dean knocks on your door.

I wish I could tell you more about myself. But I don’t have much time. I’ve known Dean since I was literally born. (And yes, I’m using the terminology right. He’s been at my side since I was a baby. Him and I have been through thick and thin. All though, I know my time’s up. Hopefully it will be your turn to share the rest of your life with him in blissful happiness with Ben. Maybe even have a child together. I don’t know. Just treat him right.

In the next upcoming days the news will be filled with disastrous things that will scare you, but don’t worry. You and your son are going to be okay. Including Dean. I have a few friends that I am going to make some arrangements with so that, worst case scenario, all of you will be happy. And most importantly, safe. I wish I could have met you again in different circumstances, but this will have to do. I wish you the best for you and your son.

Your friend, Y/N Y/L/N.

P.S. Please take good care of Dean.

\+ + +

You arrived at your destination a week after leaving the brothers and making sure you left a trail nobody could track. You were given the information that he’d been spending his time in some bar in the middle of nowhere. After getting exiled from home, he was down on his luck, lost and begging for a chance to prove himself again. That’s where you came in. You walked into the bar and looked around on this early afternoon to see there was nobody here except for a lonesome drinker at the bar at one end, at the other sat exactly who you wanted. Heading over to the bar, you nodded your head to the bartender, giving your drink over as you took a seat next to him on one of the empty stools. He kept himself looking down at his half empty glass of whiskey, lost in his own thoughts of self pity.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” You turned your head to look at Zachariah, your lips stretching into a smirk at how he looked at you with a surprised expression, caught off guard from how you had tracked him down. Before he could make some sort of snarky remark, you cut him off. “I heard from a friend you’re looking a way to get this ‘end of the world’ situation back on track. Why don’t I buy you another round and we can talk about the bigger, better version?”

“You’ve fought me tooth and nail to make sure it didn’t happen. Now all of a sudden you show up here trying to strike a conversation up with me? Get lost. Thanks to you and your little maggot friends, I’m out of the game for good.” Zachariah gestured to how he was handling his unemployment as he took another sip of his drink until there was nothing left. “No dice.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t make two measly humans say ‘yes,’ Zach.” You couldn’t help yourself but rub salt into the wound from seeing him at this point in his very long life. The angel stared at you from the corner of his eye with the least amused expression. “Look, I come here in peace. I did some soul searching and I changed my mind. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

“That ship sailed a long time ago.” Zachariah muttered as he took another sip of his drink. “I’m done with this apocalypse business.”

"What if I told you I promised Lucifer to be his vessel?” You caught him off guard, making the angel choke down his drink from hearing the news. It seemed that ou had gotten his full attention from what you said, giving you the chance to discuss what you were here for. “Let’s say we scratch Dean out of the picture, too. I have someone in mind about who could play Michael.”

“And does your little boyfriend know you’re playing with the big kids?”

"What would you say if I told you that I could make sure Michael won?”

Zachariah looked at you with a bit of a skeptical look, “I’ll tell you that’d be impossible.”

“When I was possessed by Lilith I had full control over myself. But I chose not to fight it. Now, if you make me a full demon, I could have a shot of throwing the fight.” You said, trying to theorize of what might be possible. “I know it’d be impossible, but it’s worth a shot. Don’t you think?”

Zachariah shrugged his shoulders as he turned around in his chair to lean his elbow against the bartop and stare at you. The wheels in his head were turning as he thought more about your plan. It was pretty ingenious, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of himself. There was one more Winchester he could use to his advantage. And with the help of Heaven, it wouldn’t take too much effort to do exactly what he wanted.

“Does your father know you’re working with the enemy?”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”


	18. Point of No Return.

Dear Sasquatch, (Aka. Sammy) 

If you’re reading this, then I’m long gone—and for God’s sake, please don’t come looking for me like a lost child. There’s a reason why I left. And why I decided to write you a letter instead of letting you worry that something happened to me. (I‘m fine. The Devil didn’t find me…yet.)

This is my version of a goodbye. I wish that I could’ve said it to you face to face, but you would have only stopped me from what I’m about to do. I can’t tell you much other than it’s for the greater good. And your own well being. Out of anyone I know, you don’t deserve the path fate have given you, you deserve so much more Sammy. You deserve happiness and a life that isn’t doomed for failure. All I have ever wanted was to protect you the best way that I can. You’re my best friend, the annoying little brother I never got the chance of seeing grow up. For what I’m about to do, at least I can be reassured you’ll live a long life with your brother. Like the both of you deserve.

Love your pesky best friend, Y/N.

They found the letters sitting on the motel pillow when it was time to leave Minnesota, the letters spread out with their names written neatly in cursive, and a waste basket filled with crumpled envelopes at your failed attempts of neat penmanship. You had taken the time in the middle of the night to write the boys a note before you left them for good. Sam read yours in the motel room by himself, trying to figure out what this meant. He wondered if this was caused by the conversation that you had with his brother that resulted in Dean becoming mute for the rest of the night and most of the early morning before they realized you were gone. What made Sam the most upset was that he didn’t understand why you would leave out of the blue. He read the letter almost a dozen times to figure out what it meant, but for the man being so smart, he couldn’t figure out why you ran away. Or what you were about to do.

\+ + +

Dear Dean,

First off, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the things that I said to you over the past few days and how neglectful I have been with your own feelings over the past several months—or years. I really don’t know when you have gotten so sad and hopeless. But you’re a man who only shows me so much. I tried to understand about where you have been coming from. You’re a child who had to grow up so fast and take care of everyone your entire life. And when it counts the most, you’re tired of the fight. You’re tired of having to be the strong one who has to try and save the day. So don’t. Sit back and let me take care of this.

But don’t you dare stop yourself short of a happy life. I don’t care if you spend the rest of your days just cruising around in the Impala. As long as you and Sam are together, happy, then I’m happy. And say what you will about fate, about anything that brought us together. I was wrong. I do need you. I do love you. I loved you since we were little kids. And I love you still as I’m writing this note. What I’m about to do is for you, the man who I’ve always loved. My soulmate. Maybe one day we’ll meet again in Heaven and share an eternity of blissful happiness. But we’re not getting there for you to saying yes to Michael. I won’t have that. For once, I want to save you.

Take care of your baby brother for me, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. And most importantly, please take care of yourself.

I love you with all my heart, Y/N.

Dean didn’t read your letter until he decided that enough was enough, he ran away himself. Sitting in a motel room with a bottle of whiskey and a box filled with all of his personal items getting ready to be shipped off to Bobby, he sat himself down and gathered the courage to see what you had to say. He didn’t know the reason why you ran off again. The first time was back when the demon deal was your only problem. He sold his soul to a crossroads demon to save his brother, you made another one with Crowley to take his spot in Hell. Just a few years later, Dean had a feeling history was repeating itself all over again. You had a trick up your sleeve that you thought was going to solve everyone’s problems. He crumbled the note and threw it to the ground. It was all he needed to hear to know what he had to do.

\+ + +

Dear, Cas.

Yes. I’m writing a letter to you, too. I know over the past few years our friendship has been a bit rocky. I mean, I did stab you in the chest when we first met…to be fair, I thought you were a demon. Maybe first impressions are everything. (And here is my terrible attempt at humor you probably won’t get. It was a joke, I hope that made you laugh a bit. I know you’ve been feeling a bit down lately with everything that has been happening.) Despite our difference and bumping of the heads, you are a part of this family. A very dysfunctional, unhealthy obsessed people who are willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. And you did that when you rebelled against Heaven. For us. I don’t think I ever got the chance to say thank you. For everything. I don’t know what the boys and I would do without you. I’m going to miss you.

If this works, I want you to do something for me. Please take care of my boys. Make sure they don’t do anything dumb and kill each other in the process. And have a bit of fun yourself—but lay off the alcohol. (Again, another joke…made me chuckle at least. And God knows it’s been a while.) I don’t know if you would consider our very up and down relationship as anything, but I think of you as my family. And that’s why I’m doing this. Because you’re my friend Cas, and like the Winchester way, I’m doing this so you don’t get yourself hurt or caught in the crossfire. Please take care of yourself, buddy and don’t get into too much trouble.

Love from your friendly half-demon to her pesky angel from above, Y/N.

Cas read his letter when he gotten better after what Leah, aka the whore of Babylon, had done to him. He vanished himself far away after the brothers began fighting about what the right thing to do was. Sam wanted to look for you, Dean was too caught up in his own self destruction to think about anything but himself. It was strange to see you had disappeared out of thin air, there was no new leads on how to stop Lucifer, but he had a feeling if you had gotten a clue, you would take it without informing them. The angel was still learning about human emotions, but he understood the bond between you and the brothers. It was like any other he seen before. What the three of you were willing to do just for each other’s safety. The angel had a feeling that’s why you had ran away. You were about to do something very stupid.

\+ + +

Home is where the heart is. You called some little hotel at least a few dozen states away from where you last ended up as the place where you would rest your head for now. It was a fairly small town that barely had any books in their library that weren’t religious or some crappy book that they decided was pure enough for them to read. You didn’t pick this place because you wanted to read banned fiction like The Catcher in the Rye or Fahrenheit 451. It was because in small towns like this, where everyone carried around a pocket sized bible, is where you would find all the good contents of religion. And in your time of need, you needed just about any kind of scripture that dated back two thousand years ago. You scoped out the library for every old testament, new testament, book of revelation and content that was dated back to the days when God was still around. The librarian who had helped you out looked at you a bit funny, you told her it was for a very detailed project.

It wasn’t a lie. You had been spending the past two weeks on your own, running from just about anything that would put a crimp in your plan. This was a fine line you were walking here after you made a fate you couldn’t run away from. You had said yes to the Devil. What for? Too much, that’s what. You had promised Lucifer himself that when the time came, you would be all his. You agreed to becoming a demon for the sake of his own personal obsession. And the cherry on top of it all. Instead of Sam being his vessel for the big fight, you said you would. You were going to be Satan’s prom date. But that was just the beginning of the mess you were about to get yourself into. There was so much more than you bit off.

You decided that changing Lucifer’s vessel wasn’t enough, you changed one more detail. Something that would forever make you feel terrible for dragging someone who you’d never personally met before into this mess. Dean was supposed to be the vessel for Michael, but instead, you given a different name. Adam Milligan. The illegitimate son of John Winchester, but he was still blood. It would work. At least, that’s what Zachariah promised in that dirty bar. Both of you were down on your luck. He’d gotten kicked to the curb after not closing the deal of a lifetime. You had decided to throw your entire life away for the sake of saving three people.

Over some cheap whiskey, you and him discussed the fate of the world and moving to that neat little thing called paradise. Maybe you were becoming a demon, because you were making a lot of deals. And you were being very manipulative. You had discussed with Zachariah the new game plan you had been thinking about. Say you became the vessel for Lucifer after you turned yourself into a demon so you could be strong enough. How would that benefit Heaven? In so many ways they didn’t think about. While you had been possessed by Lilith, you were in some control of your own body. You could have stopped her, but you chose not to. You proposed the idea that you could rig the fight so Michael could come out as the champion and Lucifer would return back to the cage where he belonged. Problem solved. At least, that’s what he was lead to think.

Lucifer thought you were going to join his side, the angels had faith in the idea you were going to let them win. Neither of them knew what you were scheming in privacy. You might have been a half demon, you might be putting yourself in a compromise that you could never bring yourself out of. But you were trying. You knew there was a way to put Lucifer back in the cage. You just needed to find the answers and keep everyone at bay. Just for a little bit longer. The marking on your ribs kept you hidden from all angels, and the devil’s trapped you put on the floor was an added precaution for any sort of demons that were trying to get on Lucifer’s good side. But you knew the biggest obstacle standing in your way was the Winchester boys.

You made it back from the library with at least three different books you found that seemed decent enough to figuring out more answers than bible passages that made no sense. You fetched a hand inside your jean pocket to pull out your key and shoved it into the lock of your hotel room door. Twisting it and hearing the lock click back into place, you pushed open the door with a free hand and stepped inside. You reached out to switch on the light and look around the room to see that things were as they were when you left them. But you noticed something was different. You could feel the books that you had been holding come crashing to the ground as your face dropped into a panicked expression.

Somebody was sitting at the desk that you had been using earlier this morning and going through all the research and notes you had gathered over the past several days. The stranger was Sam Winchester, and from the look on his face, he was upset about having to find you like this. He flipped your notebook shut and looked up at you, “Doing some research without me?”

“H—How did you find me?” You managed to form a question as you blinked, a bit taken back from how quick he managed to track you down so quickly.

“I’ve been running around since I was a kid, Y/N. I know all the tricks we taught you.” Sam answered you. His tone was calm, but you could see in his expression this conversation was about to turn south. He wasn’t here to see how things were going, he wanted to drag you back home. You watched as he pulled something out from his pocket jacket and threw it to the desk. It was the letter that you had wrote for him. It seemed that wasn’t enough to keep him satisfied. “You know something, don’t you? You get like this when you try to solve a problem. You push people people away and go straight for the kill without thinking about the consequences.”

“It doesn’t concern you or your brother, Sam.” You told him with a strong tone. Your voice was growing harsher from the way he was treating you, like a child who had no clue of what you were doing. “I know a way out of this. Just leave me alone.”

“So that’s why you broke up with Dean?” Sam’s question made you stop from bending down and grab the books that you had previously dropped. You slowly looked up at him and looked a bit surprised at the information that you doubt his brother would have willingly given up. “Stopped by Lisa’s place on the way here. Funny thing was, Dean didn’t stop by her place when he ran off himself, but she did get a letter in her mailbox—written by you. Wasn’t too hard to connect the dots after I read it for myself.”

You were taken back from hearing the news that Dean had run off himself shortly after you. It wasn’t much of a surprise there, you had a feeling he was a flight risk just waiting for the right push to send him off the edge. But it seemed your words of advice to go after another woman didn’t work. Nervously swallowing, you began wondering if he was about to do something stupid. Like say yes to Michael before you got a chance to find a way out of this.

“So, this is how you want things to end?” Sam asked you, his voice growing harder as he stood up from the chair. You looked away from him when you could see the sadness starting to creep into his eyes from the position you had forced the young man into. His brother had been on the edge, and you had made things only worse. “You’re gonna push everyone away and run away? How could you do that to us?”

“How could I? All you’ve ever done is run away! And I’ve done nothing else but supporting you! Stanford, the demon blood, Ruby, accidentally letting Lucifer out of the cage. You thought you were trying to help us, Sammy. I never looked down at you for what you did. Unlike your own brother.” You told him, as if he didn’t know about his past mistakes. You let out a sigh, realizing how it must have come across like it was a bad thing. “Look, I think I found a way to put Lucifer back in the cage.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you run away?” Sam asked, hoping you would give a straightforward answer. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him, as if you were trying to standing your ground. He scoffed quietly underneath his breath as he shook his head from how you were behaving. “You know I have to stop you, Y/N.”

“What are you gonna do? Throw me over your shoulder?” You gave a presumption as you let out a quiet chuckle, Sam shrugged his shoulders at the possibility. Your lips stretched faintly into a smirk at your own advantage from the public setting you were in. “You might be bigger than me Sasquatch, but you’re not taking me out of here. I’ll scream on the top of my lungs if you so dare touch me.”

“Fine. Whatever. I really don’t care.” Sam said as let out a sigh from how you were making this a little more complicated than it should have been. “But just so you know, I brought help.”

You furrowed your brow slightly from what the younger Winchester said, wondering for a moment about what he meant by that. But the sound of fluttering wings behind you, meaning only one thing. You slowly looked over your shoulder to see Cas, the angel who always entered the room by coming out from thin air, was standing right behind you. You opened your mouth to try and get them to change your mind, but before you could, the angel put his index finger on your forehead, sending the three of you far away from the hotel.

\+ + +

Much as they politely asked, you didn’t give up what sort of trick you had up your sleeve. You sat on the cot with your back pressed against the wall and your arms crossed over your chest, staying completely silent after being brought back from Bobby’s against your will. Sam and Cas worked together into tracking down where you had ran off to, his older brother also. You were a bit taken back to see Dean again, and while he seemed pissed off himself at being brought back like a small child, the both of you were thrown into a different loop of emotion at just laying eyes on one another. Your lips attempted to give him a warm smile, Dean seemed relieved to see that you were in his sight once again without a trace of harm on you. But it was only a matter of time until the room sank back down to anger. He couldn’t forget that you had broke up with him, that you pushed him away.

“Yeah, no, this is good, really. Eight months of turned pages and screwed pooches, but tonight— tonight’s when the magic happens. Yeah, only if Y/N opens that big mouth of hers and tells us her great, big plan.“ Dean paced back and forth around the room, making his frustrations clear to everyone who was trying to block his pessimistic attitude out. Bobby and Sam at at his desk to look over some books as Cas leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowed on the oldest Winchester. You looked away from the wall you had been staring at and up slightly to see that Dean was staring at you, his lips stretched into a grim smirk, as if you were going to admit your master plan. You scoffed quietly underneath your breath and looked away. Bobby tried to get the man to calm down as Dean decided to stop pacing for a moment and lean himself against the wall right across from where you were sitting. "If you don’t want me around, why don’t you let me get out of your hair, then?”

Bobby tried his hardest to ignore the oldest Winchester’s behavior. But he thought the young man was only acting like a fool for how he was treating everyone. He tossed the newspaper article he had been reading to the desk and looked at Dean, “What the hell happened to you?”

“Reality happened.” Dean answered the man with a sharp tone. “Nuclear’s the only option we have left. Michael can ice the Devil, save a boatload of people.”

“But not all of them.” Bobby pointed out the small fact that the young man seemed to have forgotten about in his selfish way of thinking. “We got to think of something else.”

“Yeah, well, that’s easy for you to say,” The oldest Winchester muttered, brushing off Bobby’s words that were supposed to be supportive. But the man’s one minded track wasn’t making him think of the end game if the worst happened and the enemy won because he was too late to solve the problem. “But if Lucifer burns this mother down and I could have done something about it, guess what—that’s on me.”

Silence filled the room after what Dean had said. He knew what would happen if he continued to say no to Michael. The world would end in complete chaos and an outbreak of the nasty croatoan virus would reign most of the population into monsters. His brother would say yes to the Devil and the woman that he loved—Dean corrected himself, the woman who pushed him away, would turn into a demon. But he could stop all of it from happening if he just said yes to the archangel. Then he could finally let someone else take a hold of the fight he was tired of trying to win. But his ideal thought of how it would all end only lasted a few moments when a voice broke the tension that had fallen over the five of them.

“Dean Winchester, the man who has to do everything himself.” You spoke for the first time since arriving back at Bobby’s. You could feel four pairs of eyes shifting to you at what you had said, followed by a small chuckle that escaped afterwards. Slowly, you removed your gaze away from the wall and to the man who was hovering over, wondering what you meant by that. “Ever come to think that we can solve this problem without having you do all the heavy lifting?”

“And she speaks. What’s your big plan, sweetheart?” Dean asked you with a bit of a curiosity, but his tone of voice was nothing short of cold and cruel. “You gonna push people away and go waltzing off to the sunset with the Devil? I’m sure he’s a better match for you. I mean, the two of you are a match in Hell. The only reason why you’re alive is because of him.”

"You know, I take everything I said back. I hope you die miserable and alone. Because the only person that you care about is yourself.” You pushed yourself up from the cot to stand in front of Dean, giving him the fuel to continue on this fight that never seemed to have ended between the two of you. While it had been done behind closed doors, the three men witnessed how you and Dean had crumbled into a pair of people they didn’t even recognize. “You sad, sack of sh—”

Before you could wipe the smirk off Dean’s mouth, someone grabbed a hold of your wrist, stopping you from letting this escalate to levels that you didn’t need to go right now. You were broken out of your thoughts when Cas shook his head at you, as if he was giving you a warning not to do something you would only regret later. You let out a quiet sigh and stepped away from Dean to give yourself some space from him. You avoided any eye contact with Sam or Bobby as they stared in astonishment from what had unraveled right in front of their eyes.

“It wasn’t too long ago the two of you were doing were walking around here with that puppy love of yours. You would do anything to save one another. Hell, you have. Now you’re clawing at one another’s throats and saying some pretty stupid stuff.” Bobby said, trying to be the voice of reason here. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked around the room. You knew the man was right. But it was hard when the oldest Winchester wouldn’t cooperate. “Both of you need to snap out of this. And you can’t give up so easily, son.”

“You’re not my father.” Dean responded to the man’s words with a few that were the worst of all that he could ever speak. You looked at him with an astonishment form what he had done. But the oldest Winchester seemed to have no remorse. “And you ain’t in my shoes.”

You scoffed underneath your breath and tightened your arms around your waist a little bit more. Sam looked over at this big brother and stared at him with anger, he shook his head in disappointment from what he was doing without any sense of how his words were affecting the people he loved. But he knew. Dean tore his gaze away and stared straight on, he swallowed and tried his hardest not to show any sort of emotion any other than frustration for how this situation was working out.

Bobby had done a lot for the three of you. He’d been there since the brothers were kids and tried to give them at least a little bit of normalcy when John dropped them off for a hunt. He had been there when you had been tracked down by Meg, sold your souls to a few demons and then tried to save you from Hell. He had been there when Sam was strung out of demon blood and had no idea of what to do. Bobby was still here at the result of being paralyzed from the waist down after being possessed by a demon. And he was still here, trying to find a way to stop the apocalypse that the three of you had caused which each step that you took. But the older hunter decided to prove Dean’s hurtful words wrong.

You looked over to the desk when you heard something heavy land on top of an open book that Bobby had next to him. The man pulled out a revolver from a drawer and placed it for everyone to see. He then took a bullet from the pocket of his flannel shirt and made sure Dean could see it clearly. Dean asked him what that was for.

“That’s the round I mean to put through my skull. Every morning, I look at it, and I think…‘Maybe today’s the day I flip the lights out.’ But I don’t do it. I never do it. You know why?” Bobby asked the younger man. But he didn’t wait for him to answer, he wanted to be the one to tell him as his tone matched his anger from how he felt. “Because I promised you I wouldn’t give up!”

Dean was stricken silent from the words that he heard. Out of anyone in this room that was a risk of taking the swan dive, it was Bobby. After his incident with the possession, the one where he had stabbed himself to save you and Dean, he had been vocal about ending his own life, thinking he couldn’t be a hunter with no working legs. But the man carried on to this very day because he knew it wasn’t worth it, his actions would deeply affect you and the brothers. You found yourself staring at the bullet Bobby had placed down on the table. All though you hadn’t told him your plan, you had a feeling he would react the same way as he did to Dean. Yet you knew there wasn’t a better option for this.

You were torn away from your personal thoughts when Cas suddenly was stricken down with a headache. Your face scrunched in concern as you watched the angel clutched his head and groaned quietly in pain. All of you stared at him, not sure what was going on.

“Cas, you okay?” You asked him with concern. The angel shook his head no as the pain seem to have gotten worse for a moment or so longer before he tried to return back to normal. “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happening.” Cas whispered.

Dean tried to ask the angel where it was, but before he could get an answer, Cas left in a hurry, a burst of wind followed behind as a few papers slowly drifted into the air before falling to the ground. You stared at the spot where Cas had been previously staring at, wondering yourself of what was going on—and if it had to do with the little plan you had set up for them.

\+ + +

Cas was gone for what felt like forever. You spent the time in the kitchen with your nose buried in a book that you had spotted buried underneath a few others on his desk. While you kept yourself occupied for the time being, your mind kept wandering back to what was going on with the angel. Zachariah had promised to keep his word about the plans. What if he didn’t? You tapped your foot against the floor and turned the page, forcing yourself to read about the fall of Lucifer, but your attention was quickly ripped away when you heard Bobby’s voice echo from the library.

“Boys! Y/N!”

You pushed yourself up from your chair and shut the book you were reading to follow behind the brothers to see what was going on. Stepping back into the library, you noticed right away that Cas had come back with some luggage with an unconscious body lying over his shoulder. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pound harder in your chest when he tossed him down to the cot and stepped away to let you see who it was. It was a young face that you had seen only once before, but it was the kind of face that made your mouth part open slightly. He was dirty and didn’t move a muscle, but Adam Milligan was the boy who had been brought back from the dead. They did it. The angels listened to your plan.

“Who is it?” Bobby asked as he wheeled himself over to the bed.

“That’s our brother.” Sam answered with a quiet voice.

Bobby was confused himself at seeing the young man in the flesh again after hearing about the first encounter that didn’t end well. The one you had met was of a ghoul who had killed him and took his form as some revenge. The boys shrugged their shoulders from what was going here as they stared at the youngest brother with absolute confusion. Dean looked over at Cas, wondering himself of what the hell was going on here. Cas placed down two blades that were meant to kill only angels, he didn’t have any helpful answers, but he knew one thing was for sure. The kid was a red flag for his fellow brothers and sisters who would be searching for Adam soon as they realized he was missing from his grave where he crawled out from.

“I know one thing for sure.” Cas said. “We need to hide him now.”

Cas placed a hand on Adam’s chest and used the same trick like had on you and the boys by carving in some enochian sigils into the man’s ribcage. The feeling of an unknown force burning into his bones made Adam wake up from his long sleep. He inhaled a deep breath as his eyes shot wide open. The young man was quick to sit himself up on the bed when he took notice of Bobby, a man he had never seen before. He stared at the five of you with almost a panicked expression as he began asking of where he was.

“It’s okay. Just relax.” Sam reassured him with a calm tone. “You’re safe.”

“Who the hell are you?” Adam asked.

“You’re gonna find this a little—a lot crazy,” Dean corrected himself at what he was about to say to the man. “But we’re actually your brothers.”

“It’s the truth. John Winchester was our father, too.” Sam said, backing up with what his brother had mentioned as he tried to introduce himself. “See, I’m Sam—”

“Yeah, and I’m sure that’s Dean. And you’re for sure that you’re Y/N. They warned me about you.” Adam said. His gaze turned away from the boys that were his own flesh and blood to you from what spoke of last. The brothers looked over at you, wondering what Adam meant by that. You licked your lips, thinking they must have given him a description that wasn’t so nice to make sure the fight was even as possible. “Now, where the hell is Zachariah?!”

“Hot damn. Those sons of bitches did it.” You muttered underneath your breath. You found yourself lost in your own personal thoughts of what was going on here. All though for you it was some kind of miracle, the boys didn’t think so from what they heard you say. You looked over to see they were rather confused as to why you were so happy. “Oh. By the way…Did I forget to mention? The Devil and I had a nice, long talk. And I’m his new vessel.“

\+ + +

“The Devil told you in a dream, so you just believe him? That’s your big plan?!”

You sat on top of the desk with your feet dangling off the edge as you occupied yourself by reading the book you had been back in the kitchen, trying your hardest to ignore the three men and angel of the Lord. The emotion in the room was nothing but pure anger at what you’ve done. You told them about your entire plan—from selling yourself to the Devil and tricking Heaven into bringing back from the dead. Just for a little while. There was no point of trying to defend yourself as Dean took his time to yell on the top of his lungs about how stupid your idea was. He paced around the room with his arms flailing everywhere as he got red in the face about the kind of danger you were putting yourself in. Cas managed to squeezed in the remark that angels were tricky, not to mention all of you still didn’t know how to put Lucifer back in the cage.

Sam was nothing but disappointed at what he was hearing. He stood across the room with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you with that kind of expression that made him look like a bit of a puppy. It was the kind of look that he gotten when he could have done something to stop this, but failed. He was acting as if this was his fault. Sure, he was nothing but upset at what you had had, but he was more worried about the sort of plan that could easily backfire if Lucifer got his hands on you. This wasn’t your fight to take on head first without a bit of help. And just the idea of you sacrificing yourself to becoming the Devil’s vessel so he could be saved made his stomach tighten with anxiety.

But the thing you wouldn’t dare talk about was why you had asked Adam to be brought back from the dead. Whenever they tried to ask, you would grow eerily silent with a look of guilt and look down at the floor. You knew they would eventually find out and get angry all over again for dragging the young man into this mess without thinking.

Adam had returned back from the bathroom in some new clothes when he cleaned himself up from being pulled out of the ground. He fixed himself a drink after being offered by Dean and headed for the cot again, deciding if they were going to get any sort of answers, the young man would do it. You shut your book and placed it down on the table, knowing you had to be present for this conversation to defend yourself when Adam spoke the truth. Dean pulled up a chair so he was now sitting on it backwards as Sam leaned himself against the desk and Cas remained at his spot previously. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing things were only going to get worse from what he was about to admit.

“So, why don’t you just tell us everything?” Dean asked the younger man, eager to hear what he had to say. “Start from the beginning”

“Well, I was dead and in Heaven…” Adam began, painting a picture that was easy to believe as he started to describe what his personal afterlife was like with a bit more vivid details that you particularly could have done without. “…Except it—it, uh, kind of looked like my prom. And I was making out with this girl. Her name was Kristin McGee.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Heaven.” Dean said. His lips stretched into a smirk, knowing enough that his own personal trip upstairs had the same kind of memory when he first got up there. It was of a better time in your relationship when you had given yourself to him in the backseat of the Impala. Before he told you about what he did to you in Hell…Dean quickly shook the thought out of his head and asked a sly question to forget the thought. “Did you get to third base?”

Sam cleared his throat as his eyes shifted to his older brother for a second from how he was losing focusing on the point of this conversation. “Just, uh…just keep going.”

“Well, these angels, they popped out of nowhere, and they tell me I’m chosen.” Adam explained to the younger man. You felt your hands grip around the edges of the desk as your nails dug into the wood as Sam asked what the man meant by that. “To save the world.”

“How are you gonna do that?” Dean asked, you could feel his eyes shift over to you.

“Oh, me and some archangel named Michael are gonna kill the Devil. I’m his sword or vessel or something.” Adam said, his tone casual as if this topic was like discussing the weather. And not about the fate of the world that now rested in his hands. You could feel his eyes shift over to you as he continued on talking about the plan they had told him. “They told me that Y/N’s his vessel and the reason why he’s walking free. Supposedly she can help us swing the fight so Heaven can win. I don’t know. They didn’t tell me that much.”

Dean chuckled at what he was hearing, “Well, that’s insane.”

“Not necessarily.” Cas said. The angel began to think about how this could work and what sort of benefit could come of this from the plan. Dean looked over at his shoulder and gave the angel a confused look from what he meant by that. “Maybe they’re moving on from you. Perhaps Y/N’s plan could work. He’s John Winchester’s bloodline, Y/N is the figurative spawn of Satan. She could be strong enough to be his vessel if she becomes a demon. It’s not perfect, but it’s possible.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath.

“Why would you do this, Y/N? You know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in playing both sides like this?” Sam questioned you as he turned his head to look at you. It seemed that his little puppy dog expression had been changed to pure anger. You looked away from him when he started to treat you like a small child who had no idea of what they were doing. “Don’t get me started if they figure out what you’re doing. Cas, do you really think they’ll do it?”

The angel shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe they’re desperate.”

“Maybe they’ve wrongfully assumed this world was going to be saved by a couple of idiots who do nothing but screw up.” You said, cutting off the angel before he could say anything else. Your lips stretched into a smirk when Dean looked over his shoulder and at you. “Sorry, Dean. Hate to make all that self-pity go to waste.”

“All right, you know what? Blow me, Y/N.” 

You scoffed at his insult, “Kiss my ass, you son of a bitch.”

“After everything’s that happened. All that crap about density, suddenly Y/N gives the angels a Plan ‘B’ and they run with it?” Sam asked. You looked over at him when be brought up another point that you had thought about. “What happens if we can’t find a way to stop the Devil? Then what, Y/N?”

“You know, this has been a really moving family reunion, but, uh, I got a thing, so—”

“Sit your ass down.” You ordered to the younger man. The tone of voice that you had used took everyone by surprise. Enough was enough. You pushed yourself off the desk and eyed all of the men in this room, wanting to make it clear you were taking charge of the conversation. You looked back at Adam and told him the truth. “Hate to break it to you kid, but the only reason why I asked you to be brought back because you’re a distraction to keep the angels busy trying to get everything together for a fight that’s never gonna be. Here’s really what going to happen. All of us are going to work together on finding a way to send Lucifer back to the cage. Neither you or Dean are going to say yes to Michael. And, if you sons of bitches have a problem with my plan, you can shove your opinions up your tight asses.” You waited a moment for anyone to respond, and when all you got was silence, your lips stretched into a smirk. “Thought so. Now, if you excuse me, I have some research to do. Far, far away from here.”

You made it a beeline for the doorway, but before you could make a single step, Sam lightly grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you backwards. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Get back here, Y/N. Sit down. The both of you.” Sam said. He pulled you back to the desk as Adam sat back down on the cot, unwillingly. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the desk in defeat. But the look on your face was anything but submission to his plan. “The angels are lying to you two. They’re full of crap. There’s got to be some other reason why they’re doing this.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so.” Adam disagreed with the plan. Sam scoffed as he asked him why that could be. “Uh, because they’re angels.”

“They tell you they were gonna roast half the planet?” Sam asked, wanting to make sure the kid knew well enough of what he was about to get himself into.

“They said the fight might get pretty hairy, but it is the Devil and his freak, right? We got to stop them.” Adam said. He nodded his head at you, with a sarcastic tone, he tried not to make his jab at you not as intention. “No offense.”

“None taken. Besides, it won’t be long until you’re dead. Again.” You said. “There’s another way, buddy. You’re not gonna fight.”

“Great.” Adam replied as he slapped his thighs with his palms. “You gonna tell us what it is?”

“Well, we’re working on the power of love.” Dean answered before you could. You narrowed your eyes on him from his response when Adam asked how it was going. “Not so good. You see, it’s kind of hard when her heart is cold and black—like her soul.”

“Look, Adam,” Sam threw his older brother a dirty look from the rude remarks that didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. He tried to focus back his attention to another family member that was about to get himself killed for what he might agree with. “You don’t know me from a hole in the wall, I know, but I’m begging you. Please, just trust me. Give me some time.”

“Give me one good reason.” Adam said.

Sam let out a sigh, he tried to wrack his brain for any sort of response that was good enough for a man that he never really met until today. He went for something that was bold, but true. “Because we’re blood.”

Adam didn’t seem to like that response, “You got no right to say that to me.”

“You’re still John Winchester’s kid.” Bobby said.

“No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I didn’t have a dad.” Adam corrected the older hunter. He looked at the brothers and you, wanting to make one thing clear. “So, we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family, and if I do my job, I get to see her again. So, no offense, but she’s the one who I give a rat’s ass about, not you.”

“Fair enough.” Sam agreed. “But if you have one good memory of Dad—just one—then you’ll give us a little more time. Please.”

Adam fell silent from the pleading that was coming from his older brother that had never met before until today. He looked at the five of you, just a bunch of strangers that were standing in his way to getting what he really wanted, but for some reason, he agreed.

\+ + +

While Adam was being kept an eye on by Bobby, and Sam was following you around like your shadow, it only meant the two hunters and angel had one last person to put on lock down. Dean didn’t like this new plan that everyone seemed to have agreed with behind his back and neglected to ask his opinion on the situation without asking. He circled the panic room, as if he was going to find a way out of here and make his grand escape. This place was a fortress. Walls made of iron and salt, the door locked from the outside, making Dean a prisoner for however long they were going to keep him here. But it seemed he had company. He turned his head to the door as he watched it slowly open. You and Sam stood on the outside to talk. But from the look on your face, you were unwillingly a participant in this. Either Sam brought you down to make nice, or you were just trying to start another fight. So, Dean decided to go first and attempted to get under your skin. He wanna gonna keep going until you hated his guts. 

"Well, sweetheart, not for nothing,” Dean said, deciding to make a move on you, despite the tension. “But the last time time you looked at me like that…I got laid.” 

“Oh, I know that. But it’s been a long time since that happened between us.” You replied back as you crossed your arms over your chest. “The only thing that’s been screwing me good and on the regular has been life.”

“Why don’t you go keep an eye on Adam?” Sam suggested to you. You looked over at the oldest Winchester for a second, he gave you a wink for your remark to push things further along. “I’ll be up in a second. I just want to talk to Dean alone.”

You nodded your head and reached to close the heavy iron door, leaving the brothers alone for a moment in the panic room. You were about to turn back and given them the privacy that Sam wanted, but you found yourself staying back, curious to see what he wanted to speak about.

“Is this really necessary?” Dean asked, gesturing to the panic room that was a bit of an overkill for the man.

“Well, I mean, we got a hands full, Dean—a houseful of flight risks.” Sam chuckled out, obviously not liking how the situation had unfolded. Dean shook his head as he mentioned something about not letting them do it, the younger Winchester had an assumption for what he was trying to say. “Who, Adam and Y/N? No, I’m not, either. We’ll find a way to stop it.”

“No, you’re not getting me.” Dean said. His voice echoed slightly as you pressed your ear to the iron door, you could hear footsteps tread across the floor, as if he was walking across the room and away from his brother.

“Oh, no, no, I ‘get’ you perfectly. You wanna make sure Y/N’s safe. I want that, too. It’s a stupid thing of what she did, but Adam’s under control. He won’t do it. Neither of them will.” Sam said, agreeing with his brother on that point. “But I’m not letting you do it, either.”

You heard a silence fall between the brothers, your eyes adverted around for a moment as you tried your hardest to hear what they said next. “That kid’s not taking a bullet for me. And there’s no way in Hell Y/N’s throwing herself to the wolves.” Dean said with a matter of fact voice. Sam spoke his older brother’s name, but the man cut him off. “I mean, think about how many people we’ve gotten killed, Sam. Mom, Dad, Y/N’s parents, Jess, Jo, Ellen. Should I keep going?”

“It’s not like we pulled the trigger.” Sam said, as if that argument would be strong enough to validate the lives they had lost over the past few years.

“We might as well have. And to mention the things we did to Y/N alone. You pumping her full with demon blood, me torturing her and acting like nothing was wrong. I can’t let her sacrifice herself for us. That’s not fair.” Dean said. You could hear just in his voice of how much sadness he was carrying around from the things that he had done in his past that he could never change. He wanted to only help, but the man seemed to only give pain to the people he loved. “I’m tired, man. I’m tired of fighting who I’m supposed to be.”

“Funny, you’ve been treating Y/N like crap since she got here. You wanna tell me what the hell happened between the two of you?” Sam wasn’t falling for his brother’s depression as he tried to get to the bottom of what was going on. Dean remained silent. “Whatever. Do you think maybe you could take a half a second and stop trying to sacrifice yourself for a change? Maybe if you and Y/N make up we can actually stick together and solve this problem.”

“I don’t think so.” Dean muttered.

“Why not?” Sam questioned his older brother, trying to find a straightforward answer. “Dean, seriously. Tell me. I wanna know.”

“I don’t believe…in you. Or the three of us.” Dean admitted what had been bothering him for all these long days. You pressed your ear closer against the iron, Sam wasn’t the only one who was taken back from the answer. “I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood or some other demon chick or what, but…I do know they’re gonna find a way to turn you. Y/N’s not gonna be the one who takes your spot. But she’s gonna be your reason. Like she’s mine.”

“So, you’re saying I’m not strong enough.” Sam said, wondering if that’s what he meant. His lips stretched into a smirk, as he was trying to move that he wasn’t weak. Or the man he was a little over a year ago. “I’m not gonna fall for whatever they throw my way.”

“You and Y/N always have been close. All she’s ever done is baby you and sweep your problems under the rug. That’s how it’s been our entire life. And she would do anything for you. But she already did—and you’re pissed about it. You would rather take her spot than stomach the idea of her being the one who rots. And that’s how we say yes. It’s because of her.” Dean said. You felt like someone had thrown a weight on your shoulders and demanded you to hold it without making a sound. You bit the inside of your cheek from what you hearing that was a new confession that you never thought would come from Dean’s mouth. “And don’t forget about the demon blood, Sammy. If she turns, and you get a whiff—it’s game over from there. I already seen before.”

“That was different, Dean.” Sam tried to defend himself at the harsh accusation being thrown against him. “It was famine that got me thinking that that way. I’m clean now.”

“You say that, but I can’t trust you anymore. Not after Ruby, and going behind my back and starting this whole mess.” Dean said. He shifted the blame now on his little brother. It was either your or his fault, never would he admit himself that he was the one who had pushed the first domino. “You’re angry, you’re self-righteous. Lucifer’s gonna wear you to the prom, man. It’s just a matter of time until we do exactly what those sons of bitches want. If it’s not the blood, then it’s gonna be some attempt at saving Y/N. There’s no other way around it, man. You know it.”

“Don’t say that to me.” Sam hissed at his brother. He shook his head as he tried his hardest not to let his emotions the best of him. “Out of anyone…not you. We need you. Y/N needs you. And all you’ve been doing is putting her down. She doesn’t know any better. None of us do!”

“I don’t hate, Y/N. God knows I love the woman to death. She’s always been the one who tried to keep us together. But…she’s also gonna be the who tears us apart. It’s the truth Sammy, and you know it.” Dean told his brother. You tried your hardest to keep yourself from ripping down the door and telling him off. But you couldn’t do that. Because you knew there was truth into what he was saying. The three of you would do just about anything to save one another. Everyone knew that. That’s how it’s gonna end, because you were blinded by own your obsession to save one another. “And when Satan takes you over, there’s got to be somebody there to fight him, and it ain’t gonna be that kid. We don’t have any options to ice the Devil, so it’s got to be me. I have to be the one who saves this family.”

You stepped away from the door after listening to what Dean had said, suddenly overcome with several different emotions that you weren’t sure which one was the right one to respond with. You didn’t know If you wanted to scream, cry or tell someone off about what you were hearing. But the one thing you knew for sure was that you needed to get out of here. And quick. You managed to race up the basement stairs and back to the first floor of the house without Sam catching you. The only thought on your mind was trying to get some air. You quietly tried to walk to the front door, but you were stopped when Bobby managed to catch you just in time. You let out a frustrated sigh and looked at him, wondering what he was trying to accomplish here. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Bobby asked, you rolled your eyes. 

“I just need some air. Okay?” You told him the truth, quickly reaching a hand to wipe away a tear that escaped your eye without even realizing it. You managed to get your emotions under control for a moment when you noticed Bobby’s expression softened slightly at what you had done. You rolled your eyes at his sympathy you really didn’t want right now. “Look, I’m not going anywhere even if I wanted to. I promise you that’ll stay. I just need some space..away from here for five freaking minutes.”

You unlocked the front door when Bobby looked away from you, making you believe that was enough permission to unlock the front door and step out to the cold night air that you hoped would be more of a comforting friend that the ones around you had been lately. Cas stepped out from the library to see a shadowy figure become lost in the rubble of the graveyard of scraps. He looked down at the older hunter, wondering why he would have done such a thing, Bobby shook his head, knowing that out anyone, you were all just talk. There was no way you would be leaving anytime soon. There was no reason why. Sam’s footsteps echoed off the walls as his tall figure appeared out from the basement. The same look of defeat was settled in his expression. However the conversation had started with his brother, it wasn’t hard to assume it didn’t end well. 

Cas looked over at Adam, who had been sleeping peacefully on the cot for the past few hours, along with Dean in the panic room, showing no signs of escape. He turned his attention to the window that overlooked the yard, as his eyes narrowed, it appeared to the two hunters that the angel was trying to look for something. “Excuse me,” The angel headed for the front door and stepped out to the porch. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The angel found himself walking out to the yard and trying to find where you were. If he had learned anything from the Winchesters and human emotions while he down on earth, it was that friends were there for one another during times of distress. Cas walked for a minute until he stopped in his tracks, the not too far distant sounds of someone’s sobs caught his attention, he knew where they were coming from. The angel followed the noises until he rounded the back of the house, finding where you had ended up. You sat on the back steps of the house with your back turned to him and your knees close to your chest. You were trying your hardest not to let anyone hear you crying from inside the house to let them worry.

“Y/N?” You accidentally jumped a bit from the sound of someone’s voice breaking your concentration away from what you had been doing. It was a moment of a few sniffles as you quickly wiped away the tears to look over your shoulder slightly, giving the angel a peek at your bloodshot eyes and face full of sadness. You told him to go away, but he had a feeling you wanted him to stay. “Would you like to talk?”

You slowly put your guard down as you stretched out your legs and looked at him in the eye again, giving him a glimpse of what you had been doing. “Why? You here to tell me that my plan is stupid? That all of this is somehow my fault?” You asked him with a sarcastic tone of voice. “Trust me, I’ve heard it enough from everyone. I just wanna be alone, Cas.”

“I don’t think you should be. I know you’re sad. And I’m your friend. We listen to one another’s problems when they’re upset. That’s what friends do, right?” The angel asked, almost seeming to be like a small child who had no clue. He seemed so nervous himself, but you could sense he was serious about this. You looked at him with a bit of a surprise expression from what he had said. His lips stretched into a faint smile, you found yourself slowly being lifted from your thinking as you let out a bit of a chuckle from how he was behaving. You rolled your eyes and moved over slightly so he could take a seat next to you. Both of you sat there for a moment in silence, unsure of what to do next, so, Cas asked you again. “What’s bothering you, Y/N?”

You kept silent for another few seconds. You tried not to let everything spill out all at once, but it did, you could feel another rush of tears suddenly come over you at his question. “Do you ever feel like everything’s your fault? You ever think, ‘If I wasn’t born, maybe this world wouldn’t be so screwed after all.’” You asked someone who didn’t know much about human emotions, but it showed when Cas had honestly answered with a no. He backed it up by saying that it must be hard, feeling like that burden being on your mind all day. “I mean, I understand that I’m not a good person. It’s fine that God didn’t create me. I screw up on the regular. I don’t mean to. I’m honestly trying. But…I don’t wanna be blamed for what’s gonna happen. That’s too much.”

Cas furrowed his brow, “Be blamed for what?”

“For being the reason why Sam and Dean say yes. That’s not supposed to happen. Everything that I have been doing for them was so they didn’t get to that point!” You admitted. You bit your bottom lip as you kept another sob from escaping. Dean’s words still replayed in your head like a bad tune that made you feel all sorts of emotions that were full of darkness and guilt. “The boys have always been there for me. From the second my mom passed away, to not making a big deal about me turning into a freaking demon. I was making those deals to help. So it could buy us some more time. Because, no matter what you wanna believe, there is a way to stop Lucifer. But….the thing that kills me the most is Dean. He doesn’t believe his own family can stop this fate. And…And he thinks what I’m doing is just going to ruin things. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.” Cas tried to reassure you. “This has been planned out before either one of you were put on this earth. We’ll find a way to stop this.”

“What if we can’t?” You asked him. Your eyes were glazed over again when you looked at the angel, letting him witness a sort of vulnerability that he had never seen before in you before. You looked defeated and drained of any emotion, all because of what you had overheard Dean say, making you believe something that wasn’t true. “What if the fight really happens and all of this has been a waste?”

Cas didn’t know what to say to make you feel better. He noticed from the fluorescent lights above that you looked exhausted from the lack of sleep you must have been getting over the past few day. Or maybe it’s been months of restless nights with a mind that never stopped worrying about the people around her. Never in his thousands of years of living would he have been sitting outside, feeling sorry for a half-demon that was the spawn of the Devil. But you had been far different from his expectations of who you were becoming. For something that had so much anger and evilness, you were giving him a side of yourself that showed what being a human was all about–love, sacrifice. Over the past year alone, you and Cas had sacrificed so much to make sure the Winchesters wouldn’t say no. And that made the angel feel something that was all new to him. It was a sense of an emotion that would be felt if someone had hurt a person they were close with. It was what you might call protectiveness.

You looked away from him and let out a sigh, not knowing what he was about to do. The angel pressed two fingers against your forehead and watched as your eyelids slowly fluttered shut, the result of what he had done made you lean over him until you were resting on his shoulder. You would be in a deep sleep for the next few hours. The angel made sure to keep you in a comfortable position on the porch for a moment as he got up and headed back inside the house.

The angel peered inside the house to see Sam was occupied with getting himself a drink in the kitchen as Bobby sat at his desk once more, both of them were distracted. Cas walked forward to the basement doorway and headed downstairs. He quietly approached the panic room, deciding it would be best to have a talk with Dean. If anyone could talk some sense in the man, Cas might be lucky. As the angel approached the last step, his attention was quickly brought over to the iron door when he heard a crashing sound coming from inside the panic room.

Cas called out the oldest Winchester’s name as he walked forward with caution, wondering if this was some kind of trick, or he was hurt. He peered into the small slit in the door and peered into the room. The angel noticed the table was knocked over and a light bulb was broken, leaving fragments of broken glass. Cas did what he thought was right, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, wanting to make sure the man was okay.

The angel glanced around the room, wondering where Dean was, but when he spotted him next to the closet door with it open, blood smeared on the mental with a sigil that was all too familiar for Cas, he knew what this was. It was a trap. Cas tried to warn the man not to do this, but before he could, Dean pressed his hand against the door, a sudden burst of light made him shut his eyes for a moment before it faded. When it did, the oldest Winchester noticed that it worked, Cas was blown to somewhere else. He didn’t really care. There was precious moments he had before someone noticed what he was doing.

Dean cautiously stepped out from the panic room and walked over to a rack that he tossed a coat of his after getting down here. He grabbed it and put it on, knowing it was chilly out there. As he slipped out his keys, Dean waited a moment to see if anyone had noticed what he’d done, all he had gotten was pure silence. The man walked to the small staircase that lead out to the backyard of the house. Quietly, he followed a path around the place, he passed by the back steps, not seeming to expect anyone would be here. But he stopped for a second when he noticed your body. He froze in his spot, waiting for you to move, yet you remained motionless for a few moments. Dean moved forward to see what was wrong with you.

A small smile spread across his lips at the sight of you passed out on the porch, your head resting on the side of the house. Your endless days of little sleep and countless hours of doing research for a way out had finally caught up to you. Instead of appearing frustrated, you looked so peaceful. Dean could feel his throat tighten at all the things he had said over the past few days. None of them which what he meant. For some reason, in his twisted plan of getting to that thing called paradise and the sweet offer that was waiting for the both of you, he lashed out at you. He wanted you to hate him for long as you were still alive. Because it would be easier to think the both of you could start all over again when the problems of the world would be over.

There would be no more monsters to fight, he could just focus on you. The idea of living in a perfect world where he could be with the people he loved was the reason why he was doing this. Maybe if he were younger he could keep on fighting. But at this stage in his life, after losing so many people, he was tired. There were too many hurdles standing in his way, and he was running out of effort to keep fighting.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He whispered to your sleeping figure. He gave himself a moment to bend down and softly pressed his lips against your forehead, giving you a kiss goodbye. “But I gotta do this, sweetheart. Not you.”

Dean left you alone on the porch steps of Bobby’s house, after he blasted Cas off to another part of the world, who really knew. But his head was clear for the first time in eight months. He knew what he was about to do, he was gonna say yes to Michael. And nobody was going to stand in his way of getting what he wanted.

\+ + +

The last thing you remembered was crying. You were lost in your own personal demons about the stresses of everything that was unraveling all at once, with no chance of stopping the impending doom. And what you had heard come straight out of his mouth. “She’s gonna be your reason. Like she’s mine.” Dean, the man you would do anything he asked, the one you went to Hell for after you made a deal to pull his ass out of the fire—the person you have been trying to save, had the audacity to mutter those words with such a sad, sad tone. Like he didn’t have a choice. His struggle was keeping his mouth shut and not saying a single word. Meanwhile, you’ve been keeping quiet for once while an evil force was growing inside of you. You were trying your hardest not to let it win. In what messed up world did he have a right to feel sorry for himself and take the easy way out?

You were so caught up in your own pessimistic thoughts, you almost didn’t realize you weren’t in Bobby’s house anymore. And you had a feeling you weren’t even in Sioux Falls. Your mind seemed to have figured out you had been staring at an oil painting in a gold frame. It must have been from at least the late eighteenth century based upon the clothing the people were wearing. Your head tilted to the side slightly to the side as a small smile spread across your lips from how much fun they seemed to have been having. The setting was of a young woman dressed in a pastel pink dress swinging off of a tree with blossomed white flowers in some kind of garden that seemed hidden away from the world. It appeared to be peaceful, almost like their own little oasis away from the troubles of the world.

Your eyes wandered to a man standing behind the woman, from what he was holding, it appeared that he was pushing her. Another man laid in a bush with a hand out as he stared up at her with happiness, or maybe it was longing for her. Your eyes noticed that her shoe had accidentally come off, as it floated mid frame in the picture, and straight for a statue you almost didn’t notice. It was a stone statue of an angel bending on one knee as he pressed a finger against his lips. Both men had no idea it was there, and while the woman was smiling and having fun, her eyes were focused on the statue. For some reason the statue reminded you of someone from the way his small finger was pressed against his lips, like he was telling her to keep a secret from the two men around her as she had her fun with them.

You tore your gaze away from the painting to inspect the new surroundings that you had landed yourself in. The room was something of magnificent beauty. You noticed right away of the gold trimmings and very expensive looking furniture that you might see belonging to royalty and other things like statues or vases that looked to have been artifacts you would observe in a museum. Out of curiosity, you reached out a hand to touch a statue of what appeared to be an angel, but a voice coming out from thin air, made you accidentally flinch, causing your arm to knock over the statue to break into several pieces. A heavy sigh of annoyance fell from someone’s mouth at what you had done. Turning your head, you looked to see it was a face you hadn’t seen that long ago, it was Zachariah, and you didn’t need much more clarification to know where you had ended up.

“Welcome back, Y/N.” Zachariah greeted you with open arms as he gave you a smile, his hands gestured to the room, your eyes wandered around the familiar sight before landing back on the angel. You furrowed your brow in confusion and began to wonder if you were dreaming about this place and he was in your head, trying to find out of your whereabouts. “Oh, no. You’re not dreaming, Y/N. Adam graciously offered where you and him have been hiding. It’s time.”

“Time for what?” You asked. You weren’t honestly sure what you were doing here in the room of where the angels kept you and Dean before Lucifer got free from his cage. But then the reality came crashing down all at once from the thought of the past that was the reason why you were here. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from letting out a few curse words to let him know you knew exactly what was going on. Eight months of trying not to get here, and you thought the only thing you had to worry about was making sure Dean didn’t escape and say yes to Michael. But it was now all over. This is it. This was the end. "Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been waiting millenniums for this exact moment. Have to admit, I’m a bit surprised to see that you would be the one standing here in my presence right before the big fight. But of course, I understand you’re scared. You thought judgement day would never come. As if the answer to all your problems could be found in some dusty book.” Zachariah said. He put one foot in front of the other and began walking. “You honestly thought you could play Heaven and Hell to your advantage, huh? All that effort of sneaking around just to save Sam and Dean from their destiny. I don’t know if I should congratulate you for being smarter than those two maggots together. Or think you’re desperate as the both of them. You know you can’t trust them.”

“I trust them more than any of you.” You said. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as the angel began to circle around you. Like a predator circling its prey, he watched you squirm under the pressure, and slowly realize you had stuck yourself straight in the spot of giving both sides exactly what they wanted so the boys could be safe. There was no way out of this. You knew they were probably hunting down Lucifer to give him exactly what he wanted, and that was you. But you stood straighter up and grew a smirk. “And besides, it won’t take them long until they realize I’m gone. They’ll come for me.”

“You sure about that? Because I just got word that Dean ran off to try and say yes to Michael first. And Sam’s out looking for him. They have no idea you’re even gone. And you still think they care about you. Why do you still?” Zachariah asked you. You swallowed as you looked away from him. “Trust me, Y/N, this is history repeating itself all over again. When the heat gets hot, they never gave a crap about you. They’d rather save each other’s sweet bacon than the planet. Or your life, for that matter.”

“You’re lying.” You said. “When Dean finds out what you’re trying to do, he’ll kill you.”

“What am I doing? You’re the one with all the free will here. I never pushed you into making a single decision.

the one who asked me to bring Adam back from the dead.

the one who told the Devil that you would be his vessel after you gave him permission to turn you into his little pet demon. I’m doing simply as you asked.” Zachariah shifted his tone to a cold and threatening one. You pretended not to be afraid of his attempt at be the authority over you as he stood taller, trying to make you feel small. Like David going up against Goliath, but without any special tricks up your sleeve. There was no way out of this, and the angel knew he had you cornered exactly where he wanted you. “They’re not your family, Y/N.”

“You know what? Screw you, screw Lucifer. I’m not doing this. You understand me? I am out of this.” You suddenly snapped at him, diverting your nervousness into anger. You thought taking permission away from the situation would have made it disappear like that. But when Zachariah began laughing and looking at you like a small child having a temper tantrum, you could feel your heartbeat pound in your chest. “You heard me, you son of a bitch. Lucifer can’t get this sweet ass of mine and he sure as hell isn’t making me a demon. The deal’s off the table.”

This might have been the stupidest thing you ever did. You had read stories where vampires could have been uninvited from someone’s house if you told them to get out. For some reason, you thought it couldn’t hurt to work here. If you could somehow reject your invitation from Lucifer so you could have it where he couldn’t jump into your skin, it was worth a shot. However, from the smile of amusement that spread across Zachariah’s face, you knew it was a shot in the dark. And you missed your target.

“Sorry, kiddo. No can do. You made your bed, and now it’s time to lie in it. Once we track down Lucifer and get you out of my hair, we can get this show on the road. Oh. And before you can do anything stupid.” Zachariah said, stopping himself from vanishing from sight. You watched as he pulled out your cell phone from the inside of his suit pocket and dropped it to the floor without a care. With the heel of his shoe, he smashed it to tiny pieces, making sure it was nothing more than dust. “Just in case you tried to do anything stupid. And we don’t want that, now do we?”

“You…” You stared at your phone, the one thing that connected you from the outside world. You had a thought about calling Cas or the boys to tell them what was going on here. But it seemed he had went through every scenario to keep you here. Now you were trapped with no way out of this. You could feel your breathing becoming labored as your eyes glanced up at the angel. “You bastard.”

"You know, if I didn’t have to hand you to Lucifer so soon, I’d make you regret those words. And everything you did to me.” Zachariah said. You narrowed your eyes at him from his threatening tone, like you were scared of him anymore. “But I guess we can’t regret that, can’t we? We have bigger things ahead of us. Sit tight, Y/N. You’re on your own now. But I’ll be back soon enough. And…Don’t forget the deal we made, champ.”

In the blink of an eye, Zachariah disappeared from your sight. You were left to stare at the same painting that you had been so focused on since arriving here. You were left alone in the room with your rushing thoughts as your only company. All these months your biggest worry was about trying not to have either of the boys say yes. But, in a twist of events, you were standing here with judgement day right behind you. It was you who was going to be fighting Michael. You’ve never felt so small, so guilty in your life before until now. Zachariah was right about this. History was repeating itself. You tried so hard to save the day, but you only pushed things into exactly where they wanted it.

This was just like the time he told you that you would help Lilith break the final seal. You agreed, thinking you could somehow help Sam take her down before time was up. Only that was exactly what they wanted. Lilith had been the final seal, and in your presence, it broke, setting Lucifer free from the cage. You somehow managed to get yourself to sit as you felt the room starting to spin around you. Suddenly you wanted to be back in Sioux Falls..hell, anywhere than this place right now. This wasn’t meant to happen. You were trying to help. But you shot yourself in the foot with nobody to help you. Your eyes wandered down to your cell phone that was nothing more than broken pieces of plastic and wires.

What if Zachariah was right? What if Sam and Dean didn’t realize you were gone? You suddenly bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough until your tongue noticed the familiar thick copper taste of blood. You would do just about anything to keep yourself from crying.

\+ + +

"Bobby, what do you mean ‘Adam and Y/N are gone’?” 

“Should I say it in Spanish?”

“They’re gone how?” Sam tried to keep himself calm in the situation being thrown at him all at once. His brother escaped, Cas was blown off somewhere else, and on top of the crap show that was turning out to be his night, you and his half brother disappeared out of thin air. The younger Winchester paced around the floor as he ran his fingers through his hair as he tried not to lash out at the man for what he couldn’t control. But he accidentally thrown out a question. “What the hell, Bobby?! You shouldn’t have let her walk out like that!”

“Watch your tone, boy.” Bobby warned the younger man when Sam dare try to raise his voice at him. The older hunter might be paralyzed, but he wasn’t going to be blamed for something he couldn’t control. He was getting worried himself. “He was right in front of me, and then he disappeared out from thin air. And I tried looking for Y/N the best that I can. Called her phone at least dozen times. She’s reckless, I’ve give her that. But she’s not stupid. She wouldn’t leave like this, Sam.”

“They’re not here because the angels took them.”

The two hunters quickly looked over at the other side of the library to figure out where the other voice coming from. Sam could feel himself letting out the slightest sigh of relief at the sight of his brother back with Cas, but he was unconscious, not to mention, bloody and battered. The younger Winchester furrowed his brow and asked what happened as Cas carelessly tossed Dean’s body to the empty cot to rest. He adjusted his shoulders after carrying the man’s weight and answered that he had done it. Cas had went a few rounds with the older man, but from the way that it turned out, he was a bit pissed off at him for reasons Sam really didn’t care about right now. 

“What the hell do you mean the angels to them?” Bobby asked. “You branded their ribs, didn’t you?” 

“Yes. Y/N wouldn’t tell them where we are. It must have been Adam.” Cas said. He thought to himself for a moment about how this could have happened, Bobby wondered himself when he asked. “I don’t know. Maybe in a dream.”

“Well, where they have have taken them?” Sam asked, hopeful the angel might have an idea. “It can’t be crazy far, right?” 

Cas fell silent as he tried to figure out where his fellow brother would stash two people that they were lead to believe was the vessels for the apocalypse. He suddenly remembered the year before, right before Lucifer was set free, you and Dean had been swiped away from Bobby’s house, and to a special room. Sam and Bobby blinked, only to see the angel disappeared from their sight. Sam clenched his jaw in frustration and looked down at his brother. He could only hope this wouldn’t end up in a disaster.

\+ + +

You sat at the head of the table with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned back in your seat, your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you watched Adam scarf down yet another burger. You and him had been locked together in the room for what felt like an eternity. Time seemed to have been an illusion when you were here—in this twisted place you started to call the angels’ greenroom. One of Zachariah’s goons offered you just about anything to please your desire to make you happy. Food, books, alcohol. All you told them that you wanted to go home for one last time. The angel found himself laughing at your request, but when he realized you were being serious from the glare that seemed to have been permanently sketched on your face, it was quickly denied. So you quietly sat for however long since the angel had left, lost in your own anger as Adam had the time of his life indulging in food and having a beer.

Every so often when he wasn’t paying attention, a scowl crossed your face from how he was behaving. He had been brainwashed into giving the exact location of where you and him were hiding out, all because Zachariah made him believe his own blood was the enemy here. He didn’t realize what he was about to get himself into once things started getting serious.

“You know, this isn’t so bad.” Adam tried to make conversation with you, breaking your attention away from a spot on the wall you had been staring at. You turned your head over to look at him, the man swallowed down another bite of his burger. “I mean, think about what paradise is gonna be like once we win.”

You rolled your eyes from his conversation starter, “Shut up and eat your damn food.”

“I see you and your brother share the same refined palate.” Zachariah’s voice came out from thin air, bringing your attention away from the young man you sat next to. The glare on your face never faltered when the angel sat on top of the marble table with his hands folded neatly in his lap. He turned his gaze away from Adam and to you, he seemed cheery, acting as if nothing had unfolded before between the both of you. You crossed your arms tighter around your body and avoided his gaze. “What’s wrong? You don’t want anything before the big hoorah, Y/N?”

“I wanna go home.” You told him your request. “That’s what I want.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Zachariah said, sounding apologetic for your ludicrous demand that you knew he wouldn’t dare do. Not after the struggle he went through to get you exactly where he wanted you. “Unlike last time, I need you where I can see you.”

“So, uh…” Adam finished the last bite of his food before placing down on the table. Unlike you and your pessimistic behavior, the younger man was restless to get this started. He decided to change the subject to the more important events that were being drawn up as all of you shared this conversation. He looked at the angel with a bit of an eager expression from the question that he asked next. “We ready?”

Zachariah looked a little confused at what the young man asked, “For what?”

“What do you mean, for what?“ Adam asked. He cracked a smile, thinking the angel was joking with him. "For Michael.”

“Oh. Right. About that…” Zachariah winced at how the conversation was about to turn. He gave the both of you a smile as you furrowed your brow from how he was acting, it was like he had to break some bad news to you. “Look, this is never easy, and I know how much trouble you went through to get here Y/N, but…I’m afraid we’ve had to terminate your position at this time.”

“What?” You didn’t understand one word he just said, you looked at the angel sitting right across from you like he was speaking some foreign language you never heard of. You slowly looked over at Adam, the both of you were confused at what Zachariah was trying to say, but you knew it wasn’t good. Things just kept getting worse the more they kept you around here. “What the hell are you trying to say? I thought we had a deal.”

“Yeah, sorry. No. But, I admit, you did have us going there for a while, Y/N. It was smart thinking for you to try and be Lucifer’s vessel. You can’t get get the party started if he can never find you. And bringing Adam into this? A nice little touch to keep us happy. But the fun’s over. It’s time to get the real show on the road.” Zachariah said. You clenched your jaw from what was happening here. This wasn’t the real thing, this was something far worse. “Come on. Both of you have been hell of a sport, really—good stuff. But the thing is, you two aren’t exactly the perfect fit as you are…a clammy scrap of bait.”

“No, but what about the stuff that you said?” Adam asked. He wasn’t pleased himself at what was going on. Being pulled away from his Heaven and told that he was the chosen one, only to find out, he was being used like a piece of meat to get the real beast. “I’m supposed to fight the Devil—I mean, her. I thought we were supposed to win.”

“Mm, not so much. You see, the Winchesters and Y/N have a very easy relationship that we use to our advantage. I wasn’t lying when they said they are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other.” Zachariah said. You looked at him with a bit of a disturbed expression from how he explained his relationship with you and the boys. It was far different from what he had told you earlier. “All you need to do is get someone they love, dangle their feet into the fire and Winchesters turn into putty right in our hands. How do you think we got Lucifer free from the cage?”

“You son of a bitch!” You hissed at him, You pushed yourself to your feet, letting the legs of the chair scrape against the floor. “You set us up. You told me—”

“Did you honestly think for a second I would listen to you—a little cambion, the scum on the bottom of my shoe, could fool Heaven and Hell into doing whatever you wanted. Did you honestly think I was that dumb?” Zachariah asked. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, wondering how he could trust someone that had resisted each step of the way, only to suddenly come to him when he was down on his luck with a plan that was too good to be true. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a glare. Your lips pouted out slightly more as your brow furrowed tightly together, making you appear as a child having a temper tantrum. “Hey, if it makes you two feel any better, you happen to be the illegitimate half brother of the guy we do care about. Y/N here is the reincarnation of the woman Michael had a thing for. And she’s the reason why Lucifer’s walking around free That’s not bad, is it?”

“So, you lied to us.” You said. “About everything.”

“We didn’t lie, Y/N. We just avoided certain truths to manipulate you.” Zachariah said. “But to be fair, you set yourself up the moment you opened your big mouth to Lucifer. You might not be his vessel, but he’s looking for you. When he gets his hands on you, it’s only gonna be a step in the right direction. And you’ll be out of my hair for good. Thank heavens for that.”

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” You hissed at him, your lips stretching into a grim smile as you tried your hardest not to lunge across the table and claw his eyes out with your bare hands. “If the boys don’t kill you, I swear, I’m gonna do it myself.”

“Hey, do you two think I feel? I’m the one that’s got to put up with his dumb, slack-jawed look on his face. And your temper tantrums.” Zachariah mocked the both of you from how the way you were acting. You looked up from the table and stared at him with a deathly glare. He seemed to have sense your frustration at what you did. “Kid, we didn’t have a choice. The Winchesters got one blind spot, and that’s family. See, Sam and Dean, they’re gonna put aside their differences, and they’re gonna come get you two. And that is gonna put Dean right here—right where I need him.” 

“That was your whole trick, huh? You brought Adam into this and let everyone believe that he was gonna be the one to fight. And you knew Dean would never let him stand for that. That’s pretty clever. I’ll give you that.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. You wanted to know their entire game plan to see what they had up their sleeve. You wanted to know where you went wrong. “Okay. What about Sam? He’s not gonna say yes.” 

“You know, Dean was right about you being the reason why both of them said yes. Adam here is a prime example. Who brought him back? You. And did you honestly think Sam was going to be okay with Lucifer taking over your body? I think he’ll soften up when you get personally handed off to Lucifer. It’ll only be a matter of time before Sam breaks down and takes your place. Like I said, history repeating itself. I just needed to nudge you in the direction.” The angel explained. You shut your eyes for a moment at what was happening. Each way you tried to think, you were only greeted with the terrifying thought that there was no way out of this. “Don’t beat yourself up, Y/N. We really couldn’t have do this without you. Michael’s seen it. The tumblers finally click into place, and it’s all because of you. And me. But who’s keeping score?”

“Hate to burst you bubble, but I’m afraid you forget about one little detail.” You said. “Dean knows there’s a way to stop Lucifer that doesn’t require saying yes. And who’s to say we won’t tell him this isn’t a trap?”

“Y/N’s right.” Adam pushed himself to his feet and joined you. It seemed that he had come to his own conclusion that this was wrong, he wasn’t brought back from the dead to save the day. If the both of you worked together, maybe you could avoid certain problems. “We’re not gonna let you do this.”

“Cool your jets, corky. Sit down. Don’t drink the kool-aid she’s handing out. You and I will do this together. Plus, if you do, you get to keep your severance.” Zachariah reassured the younger man as he watched Adam take his seat again, letting him back away from the mistake he was about to do from bringing up the promise he made. “You still get to see your mom, okay?”

Adam seemed a bit skeptical about what he was being told. You slowly looked away from Zachariah and to Adam, who was sitting next to you. Both of you locked eyes for a moment. You had told him before that the angels weren’t the good guys, they would use anyone for their own advantage. And when you shook your head, Adam seemed to have grown skeptical. He was lied to before about being the chosen one, who was to say they weren’t lying about letting him see his mother again. He looked over at the angel and asked, "Why should I believe you?”

“You know what? I keep hearing this.” Zachariah dismissed Adam’s question as he began mocking a talking motion with his hand at the both of you. Your brow scrunched together from how rude he was being, but it was a way for the two of you to do exactly what he wanted until the plan called for it. “But what I want to be hearing is this.”

You watched as he pointed his hand in Adam’s direction, and before you realized it, the marble tabletop was covered in blood after the young man leaned over at coughed it up. He leaned over the table and hugged his stomach, seeming to act like he was in pain. You quickly looked over at the angel to demand him to stop what he was doing, but before you could say the words, you felt like a thousand needles piercing your stomach. The thick taste of copper filled your mouth like bile, and much as you tried to keep it down, you leaned over the table and began spitting out your own blood, staining the white marble. You knew Zachariah had you exactly where he wanted you all this time. Silent and suffering in pain.

While he waited for the boys to put their thick skulls together and figure out something, he walked forward to the table, deciding that maybe he was wrong. He did have some time to have a bit of fun with you before Lucifer came along.

\+ + +

Dean Winchester woke up to his entire body feeling like it was in pain and one of his wrists cuff to a bed. The man slowly adjusted himself back into consciousness and looked around at his surroundings to see that he was cuffed to the bed in the panic room. This sure wasn’t the events of a fun night. Dean winced slightly as he pushed himself to a sitting position the best way that he could, but making sure not to move from the pain that shot through his body. He took a moment and try to reduce the headache that was starting to settle in his head, not realizing that he had company.

“How you feeling?”

“Word to the wise, don’t piss off the nerd angel. But, I guess this means Y/N and Cas are best friends.“ Dean said. He remembered what Cas had said back in the alley while the angel beat him up. Cas had done so much for him. And to hear about what Dean had said about you only made the angel become even more furious. Dean looked over at his little brother, he noticed the mention of your name made him look uncomfortable, like he was trying his hardest not to worry. "So, how’s it going? I’m guessing Y/N heard everything I said.”

“Y/N and Adam are gone.” Sam broke the news to his brother, diverting away from the question that wasn’t important right now. “The angels have them.”

“Where?” Dean asked.

“The room where they took you and Y/N. Cas did a recon.” Sam explained the information that he had been gathering over the past few hours while his brother was unconscious. Dean listened to every word that the man said, and just like that, his plans to sell himself to Michael had disappeared when he asked about the competition they were dealing with. “And the place is crawling with mooks—pretty much no-shot-in-hell, hail-Mary kind of thing.”

“Ah, the usual.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He looked around the room for a moment when he realized there was no way he could help. Not the way he wanted it to. “What are you gonna do?”

“For starters…I’m bringing you with.” Sam said. He pushed himself up from the chair that he had been sitting in and headed over to his brother. Shoving the key into the lock of the handcuffs, it only took a simple turn before Dean was free. The older Winchester willingly took back his free wrist and began to wonder if his brother was being stupid. But Sam didn’t think so. “There are too many of them. We can’t do it alone, and since Y/N isn’t here, you’re pretty much the only game in town.”

“Isn’t that a bad idea?” Dean asked, he watched as his little brother tossed the key to the desk and sat himself down on the edge. Sam shrugged his shoulders, saying how Cas and Bobby thought so, but he wasn’t so sure, he decided to be stupid and put some trust in his brother. “Well, they’re right. Because either it’s a trap to get us there and make us say yes, or it’s not a trap and I’m gonna say yes anyway. And I will. I’ll do it—fair warning.”

“No, you won’t.” Sam said. “When push shoves, you’ll make the right call.”

Dean looked at his brother for a moment, not so sure why he was putting so much confidence in the man. He had clearly stated that he was willingly ready to put his life on the line and push for the apocalypse. But Sam didn’t believe him. “You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here.” Dean said. “Hell, I have let you rot in here.”

“Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t get it.” Dean muttered, knowing there was something else that his brother wasn’t saying. “Sam, why are you still doing this?”

“Because, you’re still my big brother. Y/N’s our family. She’s constantly pulling our asses out of the fire. Look at where it ended her. I need the help I can find to get her back. If you wanna go in there and say yes, fine. I can’t stop you.” Sam said. He pushed himself to his feet, but before he walked to the door, he looked back at his brother, wanting to say just one more thing. “But you love her, which I know you do, you won’t say yes. You’ll do the right thing.”

“And what’s that?” Dean asked.

"It’s like the demon deal all over again.” Sam said, giving him a bit of a hint. “And you know it.”

Dean bit his bottom lip as he watched his little brother exit the panic room, leaving him to reflect on the words that he had said. The demon deal each of you had put out to save one another. Dean sold his soul to save his brother, you sold your soul to save him from Hell. Each of you fought tooth and nail to beat each other to a certain death. But at the end of it, both of you agreed that you didn’t want to die. Dean realized that things didn’t change much since then. Not even his desperation to get you back from the enemy after landing yourself in trouble, yet again.

\+ + +

“Where the hell are we?”

“Van Nuys, California.”

The Winchesters doubted they would ever get used to being in one place at one moment of time, all before finding themselves in a completely different spot in the world. Dean looked around to see it was a sunny afternoon with not a single cloud in the sky. But then he started to take notice that him and his brother were being lead down a path of some old abandoned building. He looked ahead and asked Cas where the beautiful room he was in before, the angel nodded his head to the building they were approaching. Dean furrowed his brow to see the warehouse looked to be an abandoned building that hadn’t been touched in years.

“The beautiful room is an abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys, California?” Dean asked.

“Where’d you think it was?” Cas asked, slowly approaching the worn out and graffitied wooden doors that would lead you and the boys directly to the room.

“I don’t know. Jupiter? A blade of grass?” Dean tried to make a guess of possible locations the angels would hide their special room for VIPs only. He wouldn’t have expected a place like this, from its lack of curb appeal, for a snazzy room to be located. “Not Van Nuys.”

“Tell me again why you don’t just grab Adam and Y/N and shazam the hell out of there.” Sam said, changing the conversation to what had been bugging him about this plan that Cas hadn’t talked much about. He just whisked the three of them here and to the entrance of the warehouse without much other explanation.

“Because there are at least five angels in there.” Cas said.

“So?” Dean asked, not sure what the problem was. “You’re fast.”

“They’re faster.” Cas answered with the truth. He looked around to see most of the area was still clear as he undid his tie, letting it slip off his neck and bunched in his hands. “I’ll clear them out. You two grab Y/N and the boy. This is our only chance.” 

“Whoa, wait.” Dean stopped the angel from barging in there without a single weapon to protect himself for what he was about to do. “You’re gonna take on five angels? Isn’t that suicide?”

“Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail.” Cas said. Dean’s face fell from the words that weren’t meant to be harsh, it was just the truth of the situation that the angel had come to terms with. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t have the same faith in you that Sam and Y/N does.”

Cas reached inside the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out what appeared to be a box cutter as he pushed it so the blade was in full view. Sam furrowed his brow in concern, wondering how that could be useful for a fight against five angels. “What the hell are you gonna do with that?”

\+ + +

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and at this point in the game, all of you would do just about anything to keep one another safe. Dean didn’t like this plan when Cas explained what the box cutter was for, but he knew there was no way out of this except going this route. Cas told the boys that it would be fine, long as you and Adam made it out alive, then it would be all worth it. Dean was told to wait fifteen minutes after the angel stepped inside the warehouse before coming in, that’s when the place should be cleared out. But it only been five minutes and the entire building was eerily silent, showing no signs of occupancy. Dean looked over at his little brother, and with the nod of their heads, Dean quietly opened up the door and stepped inside to inspect the damage of what Cas had done.

The noises that followed after were the echoes of his previous actions and his footsteps across the concrete floor. Every move he made, Dean made sure to keep a lookout for any pesky angels, but to his surprise, the journey to the small shack in the middle of the room remained empty. He noticed there was no fatality, a man he’d never seen before laid on the ground, but with a soft kick to his side, Dean noticed that he was no threat, he was dead. He inhaled a deep breath and turned his attention to the important thing on his mind. Dean stared at the door knob with resistance. This was almost too good to be true. What if he was too late? His entire head filled with doubt. But that’s exactly what they wanted. Get him down on his knees and make him fear the worst. Dean stretched his fingers and forced himself to open the door.

A bright light flooded the warehouse when he stepped inside to the shack, but Dean had found himself pulled into another room that was all too familiar for him from the interior. He looked around to see the fixtures on the wall to the furniture spread around the place. But what was different from the last time he was here was little droplet of something red on the floor, almost like a trail that was trying to lead him somewhere. Dean followed the spots across the room, all while taking notice they were getting a bit larger. His eyes wandered to the sight of his half brother leaning against the wall, mouth and hands stained with blood. Dean noticed not even a second later you and Adam looked like you had been through a bit of hell. He quickly raced across the room and dropped himself down to a crouching level to make sure the both of you were okay.

“Adam. Hey, hey.” Dean grabbed the younger man’s attention, shaking him lightly to wake him from unconsciousness. Adam woke up with a bit of a fright, but he seemed somewhat all right, but Dean had little time to make sure there was any long term effects. His attention quickly wandered over to you, and it took more than just a simple push to get you awake. “Sweetheart, come on. Wake up.”

Slowly, Dean watched as your eyelids started to flutter open, you weren’t sure what was going on, but when you noticed a familiar face staring back at you. You could feel yourself being overcome with surprise, almost acting as if you would have never see him again. “You came for me.” You whispered. After everything that you and him said, he was still stupid enough to come and rescue you from whatever stupid plan you got yourself into.

“Of course I did. You’re family. And you would do the same for us.” Dean said. Adam managed to get himself up to a standing position without much help, but the oldest Winchester found it a bit easier for you to be scooped up in his arms and be carried out. You were in pain, but you managed to say that all of this was a trap. Dean nodded his head as he adjusted his weight to carry you. “Yeah. I figured that much. But it’s okay, Y/N. We’re gonna get out of here.”

"Dean, please.” The oldest Winchester stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Zachariah had came out from whatever hole he crawled out of. His lips stretched into an amused smirk at the sight of Dean trying to play hero to his brother and the woman he loved. If the man thought getting here was a struggle, the angel was just getting started. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

“Did you?” Dean asked.

The brothers weren’t stupid. They weren’t going to step inside here without a game plan. Your eyes averted away from the angel to see Sam come up from behind with what you noticed right away was the blade that could only kill angels. And while he had been swift, sneaking up on something like Zachariah was near impossible, he saw the move coming before they even figured it out. Without breaking a sweat, Zachariah turned around just in time to grab the younger Winchester by the wrist and take the blade out of his hands. Dean called out his little brother’s name in a rage of panic when he saw Sam go flying across the room. Zachariah rolled his eyes from the oldest Winchester getting occupied on factors that wouldn’t matter soon.

“You know what I’ve learned from this experience, Dean?” Zachariah asked the Winchester, as if he really wanted to hear his response. “Patience. And knowing where to push the right buttons.”

You could feel yourself sinking to the floor at the overwhelming pain that felt like someone was trapped inside your body and clawing its way out. That was the best way to describe it. The taste of blood overwhelmed you again as you coughed, the substance filled your throat as you tried to get it out, wanting to stop the feeling like you were about to choke on your own blood. Dean hovered over you, his eyes widening in fear as he spoke your name in a frantic tone. The angel, however, watched the sight of you suffering and Dean squirming like it was the best thing he ever seen. With the squeeze of his hand, you felt the pain become worse.

“Let her go, you son of a bitch.” Dean ordered at the angel, but he was listening, Zachariah was caught up in his own narcissism to care about the man’s feelings.

“I mean, I thought I was downsized for sure, and for us, a firing—pretty damn literal. But I should have trusted the boss man. It’s all playing out like he said…you me, your hemorrhaging brothers and your little girlfriend. How do we like the idea of her choking on her own blood? But never quite getting there?” Zachariah had Dean exactly where he wanted him. Sam and Adam were leaned over on the ground, coughing up blood from the pain they were going through. Your hands clenched into fists as your body was overcome with panic. You tried your hardest to breathe, but it was the feeling again, like you were drowning. You forced yourself to think this through logically, but your mind wouldn’t let you. “You’re finally ready, right? You see things our way. You know there’s no other choice. There’s never been a choice.”

“Stop it.” Dean whispered. His hands trembled as he looked at his baby brother, all before his gaze fell on you. He could feel tears starting to form in his eyes from the lack of control he had. They knew his weakness. And they were playing him exactly how they wanted. Dean tried his hardest to win this fight without doing it. “Stop it right now!”

“In exchange for what?” The angel asked.

“Damn it, Zachariah. Stop it, please.” Dean pleaded one last time, hoping the vulnerability in his voice would be enough to make Zachariah change his mind. Zachariah raised a brow as he stared at the man, knowing that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. The oldest Winchester could feel his fingernails dig into his skin. “I’ll do it.”

“I’m sorry.” Zachariah said, he cupped his ear to hear a bit better. “What was that?”

“Okay, yes.” The oldest Winchester spoke the words louder, Zachariah wanted to make sure you and Sam heard the man clearly. You could feel your fists beginning to loosen as you stared at the man above you, a look of betrayal settled into your expression. “The answer is yes.”

“Dean,” You fought whatever hold Zachariah had on you, and not even the blood filled in your mouth would stop you from letting the man make the worst decision of his life. You didn’t go all these months, lost so many people for him to succumb to this low. “

“Do you hear me? Call Michael down, you bastard!” Dean yelled so everyone in the room could hear what he was about to do. You stared at him with an anger settling into your eyes that he’d never seen before. The man looked away, trying his hardest not to let his emotions get the best of him for what he was doing. At this point of the game, Dean was losing, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. Zachariah, however, wasn’t falling for this little trick.

The angel’s eyes narrowed down on the man, suspicious of what he might be up to. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Does it look like I’m lying?” Dean questioned the angel.

Zachariah could see what was standing in front of him was a broken man beyond damage. He knew there was no more of a fight in the oldest Winchester, because he knew there was no way out of this. The angel felt like a kid on Christmas. He turned around in his spot on the floor, his back turned to the four of you, he began to chant something in enochian that sounded roughly familiar to a summoning spell Cas had used to get Raphael’s attention. Dean looked away from the angel and to a spot on the floor, wondering if this was the right move. What else was he supposed to do. He was backed in the corner…

“How could you?” Dean was broken out of his thoughts at the sound of a whispered voice coming from the floor. He looked down to see that you were staring at him with all different sorts of emotion. Sadness, anger, frustration, betrayal. But one thing was clear from your facial expression, you were disappointed in him. “After everything that we did for you. How could you do this to me?”

Dean thought about what you had said. And just like that, something began to change inside his head.Dean suddenly remembered how Michael got to control his father when they went back in time as another effort to change the fate that was written out for them. There was a promise of keeping Mary safe. But the oldest Winchester knew that was a lie. Just like how Michael said he could fix you, help you get back to your normal self. All because he was blinded by his own selfishness and obsession to become like his father. It was that moment Dean thought back to what you had said to him when Sam ran off. He wanted to abandon Sam after what he did to betray the family, but you told him to keep fighting until the relationship got better.

All you had done over the past several years was try to keep this family together. You stayed with them when Sam was psychic, when Dean sold his soul to a demon, through the demon blood, the freeing of Lucifer, the torture in Hell. Never once did you check out if it wasn’t for the greater good. Dean realized that you weren’t the reason why he was going to say yes. You and his little brother were the reason why he was going to keep fighting. Because that’s what Dean Winchester would do, the man you fell in love with.

Dean looked over at you again, his saddened expression began to slowly change, and with Zachariah lost in his own trance, the man’s mood changed. You watched as the ends of Dean’s lips began to slowly quiver up—into a smirk. And for an added effect, he gave you a wink. The man was like a snake. He slithered out of his skin and shedded off his old self, giving you a new and improved version from the way he acted next.

“Of course, I have a few conditions.” The oldest Winchester spoke up, his voice was now calm as he took Zachariah by surprise. The room began to slowly shake, signaling that he had little time to get this plan going before he was gonna regret this. “A few people whose safety you have to guarantee before I say yes.”

“Sure, fine.” Zachariah said. “Make a list.”

“But most of all…Michael can’t have me until he disintegrates you.” Dean stated his demands. The angel looked at the man with a bit of a confused look, wondering what had just come out from his mouth. “I said—Before Michael gets one piece of this sweet ass, he has to turn you into a piece of charcoal.”

Zachariah let out a nervous sounding chuckle, “You really think Michael’s gonna go for that?”

“Who’s more important to him now? You…” Dean questioned the angel. “Or me?”

Zachariah lunged forward at what he heard Dean say. He grabbed ahold of the man by the collar of his jacket, he shook him slightly, a scoff falling out from his mouth at how a human, no less, was trying to make him feel inferior. “You listen to me. You are nothing but a maggot inside of a worm’s ass. Do you know who I am…” The angel shook Dean slightly, trying to strike fear into the man, but it only made Dean grow a smirk. “After I deliver you to Michael?”

“Expendable.” Dean answered.

“Michael’s not gonna kill me.” Zachariah said with a matter-of-fact voice.

“Maybe not.” Dean agreed. Your eyes wandered down to the blade he had hidden up his sleeve, quite in the literal sense. A small smile spread across your lips at what was happening. Even with the room starting to shake violently all around you, he still managed to pull through and save the day like how you wanted him to. “But I am.”

Dean shoved the blade straight through Zachariah’s throat, the stunt had took everyone by surprise, yourself included, but you were thrown out from your thoughts when you realized you were about to see an angel get killed. And it was something. You quickly shielded your eyes from the sudden blinding light that began to grow more and more harsher with each passing second. Dean was thrown back against the wall as Zachariah fell to the ground, a single trickle of blood escaped his wound from where the man had stabbed him. Slowly, you looked up, while you felt the air in your lungs come back and the force that the angel had on you lifted, your eyes wandered to what was burned in the floor. You noticed what appeared to be two wings on the floor, you furrowed your brow, wondering if that’s what happened to all angels. But you weren’t going to get your answer today. You had company company.

“Here’s a crazy idea…” You managed to speak, wincing in pain as you struggled to speak over the piercing ringing that was coming from all around you. “Maybe we should be leaving?!”

Michael was coming again. You forced yourself to stand on your hands and knees. While the air had come back to your lungs, you had felt it near impossible to move, what Zachariah had done to you made an impact on your body for days to come. You looked over at his dead body, reminding yourself that he was gone. He couldn’t hurt you or the boys again. Dean got himself back to the situation as he helped Adam up to his feet, while the younger man slowly got up, it was you that was Dean’s real focus. Just like before, you could feel yourself being lifted up from the ground when the oldest Winchester picked you up bridal style, rushing you to his little brother as Adam struggled to follow behind, his attention focusing in on the bright light.

You reached out your hand to help Sam up from the ground, you and Dean worked together in helping one another out the front door to freedom. You honestly didn’t know what you were expecting when you got out from the room. But a warehouse wasn’t that. You managed to steady yourself on your feet when the boys attempted to go back and save their brother. But it was too late. The door slammed shut. Dean tried to reach out and open the door, but something was making it burning hot, just letting his hand over it was too much for him to handle. The three of you watched as the light coming from inside the shack you came out from slowly died away, leaving nothing but a darkness your eyes soon adjusted back to.

Dean didn’t waste a second when the door handle went back to being cold to open up the door. You honestly weren’t sure what to expect when he stepped inside the shack. But you could feel a sense of guilt weigh heavy on your conscious when the oldest Winchester stumbled to what appeared to be an abandoned office that looked like it hadn’t seen any human contact in a long, long time.

\+ + +

You had made it back to Sioux Falls a half day later. The troubling news that followed in the car ride back was that Cas was gone. When you were in the room, Zachariah made sure that the place was well guarded at all times, nobody could come or go, until he wanted. Cas had gotten the stupid idea to carve the sigil that sent away all angels into his skin—making it so that the angels were blown to another part of the universe, himself included. And Adam. Poor, poor Adam. You still couldn’t believe what you had done. Somehow, if you could have done this all over again, you would. But you had to hold on to the fact that you and the brothers were safe, for now, at least. Who knows what trouble will bring after you ditched Michael, brought back someone from the dead, and killed an angel. That would have to wait for another day.

You occupied the bathroom after changing into some clothes that weren’t stained in your blood after coughing up what felt to be a pint of it. While you felt a little dizzy, you cleaned out the blood with a bit of mouthwash, trying to get the copper taste out of your mouth in favor for that minty fresh taste. You spit the contents into the sink and stood back up. When your eyes wandered to the mirror, your eyes noticed someone was lingering behind you, making you jump out of your skin. You noticed right away the person who nearly made you have a heart attack was Dean. Neither one of you had spoken much since coming back. You slowly turned around in your spot, deciding to see how far you two could go with this civil attitude towards one another before it was all over.

"So,” You leaned yourself against the bathroom sink and gave the man a small smile. Your eyes wandered to the cut he had on his lip for a moment to the gash on his cheek that was starting to heal. “You think Adam’s okay?”

“Doubt it. Cas either.” Dean said. You looked down at the ground and nodded your head. While you were expecting to hear the man say something about how this was his fault, you quickly looked up at him to see that he sounded positive. “But we’ll get ‘em.”

You bit a small part of your lip and listened to his words. For the first time in a long time, you can believe his words, he seemed more positive than he had in a long time. But you couldn’t help yourself at lingering back to what happened. “So,” You began. Dean raised a brow as he leaned himself against the doorway, curious to hear what you were going to say. “I saw your eyes. You were totally rockin’ the yes back there. So, what changed your mind?”

Dean fell silent from your question. He let out a quiet sigh as he looked around the room, wondering how the hell he was going to explain himself after what he had said over the past few days. But honesty was the best policy. You had every right to hear the truth.

“The damnedest thing happened. I mean, the world’s ending, the walls are coming down on us, and all I know is that you’re the reason why I’m standing in that room. I look over to Sammy and all I can think about is, ‘This stupid son of a bitch brought me here.’ But…then I saw your face. And I knew—I knew I was wrong. You’re not gonna be the reason why I say yes to Michael. You’re my reason to keep fighting.” He said. You could feel yourself growing a smile from what you heard. Dean crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes began to slowly dart around the room. He was growing a bit guilty, but he didn’t want to apologize just yet. He was afraid you still were harboring anger towards him. “I just didn’t want to let you or Sam down. Not after what the two of you’ve done for me.”

“You didn’t.” You said. “You almost did. But you didn’t.”

“I owe you an apology, Y/N.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow and began to shake your head, trying to say that it wasn’t important, something like this was better to admit the both of you were wrong. But the man wanted to. “Just…let me say this. I don’t know if it’s being a big brother or being in a relationship, but, you know, to me, you’ve always been this Nancy Drew who stuck her nose in things where it didn’t belong. And, I admit, I honestly thought for a while the three of us together was a bad combination. But after today I think we know that’s not true. I mean, hell, if you two can find faith in me..if you can stick with us after all the crap you’ve been through…the least I can do is return the favor.”

“You…” You had to admit, you were overwhelmed with how many different emotions that overcame you all at once. Both of you had a chance to finally step away from the chaos for a moment to figure out what had been going on more than just a few days. His lips stretched into a small smile, as if he was attempting to apologize again, but before a single word could come out from his mouth, you reached up and slapped him right across the mouth. “You son of a bitch. I told you so!” 

"Also, don’t piss off your girlfriend.” Dean muttered underneath underneath his breath as he reached up to rub the spot that was still tender from where Cas had punched him not too long ago. The words that he had spoken were automatic, but when he realized what he had called you, his accidentally looked like a deer in headlights as your eyes narrowed on him. Maybe the deal was still on the table. He honestly thought for a second you didn’t want to be with him anymore. “Look, I—”

Before he could try and start to beg like a fool to take you back, he was cut off, by the feeling of someone pushing him forward and wrapping their arms around his neck. His eyes narrowed slightly to see that you were embracing him like you were going to lose him again. Dean quickly fumbled his hands around your waist and pulled you closer, deicing that he was wrong. He loved you, damn it. What an idiot he was. He didn’t need an archangel, fate or cupid to tell him that you were his soulmate. His better half. It’s always been there, and he knew it. And he knew one more thing—he couldn’t lose you. Not again.

You showed your apology by kissing him with deeper, giving him all the passion and romance that had been lost in your relationship for what felt like a few months now. Both of you held one another with a tight embrace, forgetting for a moment about what personal space was. You just wanted him close again. You wanted to feel that hope again that Dean could always give you.

“I love you.” You whispered to him, unwillingly you pushed him away when you felt almost all of the air was sucked out of your lungs from the way that Dean kissed you. “I mean it. I love you. And I’m not gonna stop doing stuff to try and save you. That’s just who I am. But, God, I want—”

Dean didn’t need to hear anymore of what you had to say, he had an idea of what you were trying to hint around. Your romantic life wasn’t the only thing that was lagging over the past few months. Like a bunch of teenagers, the both you managed to leave a note on the counter to the sleepy Sam and Bobby that you and Dean were going to be gone for a little while. You let out a giggle when Dean moved your hair away from your neck to give it a kiss at the exact spot where that always got you. You tried your hardest to shove the key into the lock as Dean continued on teasing you with kisses and whispers of how much he loved you. As you looked up for a second out of sheer curiosity, you could feel the keys you held slip out from your grip.

“Oh my God. No.”

Your eyes went wide as you backed into Dean, a sudden panic washed over you at who you saw standing across the way in the junkyard. Underneath the spotlight was him, it was Lucifer. You tried your hardest to somehow get out of here before it was too late. All of this was too good to be true. He found you. The bloody Devil found you and he was going to take you away. You were about to bolt for the house for safety, but Dean pulled you back into reality when he forced you to stay in place.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Dean reassured you as he wrapped his arms around your shaking body from what you had seen. You blinked, and just like that, Lucifer disappeared from your sight. It was just a trick your mind was playing on you. You tried your hardest to believe what he was saying as tears began to suddenly form in your eyes. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. But it didn’t mean that he wasn’t trying to look for you. The deals that you made with Zachariah might have been a trick, and you might not be the Devil’s vessel, but you were quickly reminded that you were his. And it’d be only a matter of time until he got what he wanted.


	19. Hammer of the Gods.

A thunderstorm like this, with the howling winds and lightning that illuminated the dark clouds, would have been relaxing on any other given night. But it wasn’t exactly helpful when you and the boys were traveling down the highway with rain pounding against the Impala’s metal rooftop and the wipers working in the fastest mouth on they could go. Yet it couldn’t help Dean navigate at least a few feet in front of him. Now that all of you were back on the hunt to kill the Devil, you had worked with Bobby right before you left to try and make a list of people of who you could talk to. You had tediously spent time to map out a path path that would perfectly navigate the three of you through the states without much of a delay. Until tonight. With this weather, you had to take a small detour in your travels, knowing it was safer to find that little motel Dean had spotted while driving down the highway than get into an accident.

Fifteen minutes later, the Impala pulled up the Elysian Fields Hotel with a neon sign flashing the welcoming words of vacancy and to top it off, Dean managed to get a parking space out front so the three of you didn’t have to walk very far in this weather. While all of this might have played out like some kind of dumb luck after getting caught in hurricane weather that was out season for it being only a few weeks into April. There was still the challenge of getting your bags as another roll of thunder crashed in the sky as rain continued to pour down. You looked out the window and bit your bottom lip, suddenly becoming hesitant with the idea of getting out of the car when you heard another rumbling of thunder come crashing up in the sky, and few seconds later, the night sky brightened from the lightning. For being someone who had looked at fear in the eye everyday of their life, you were acting like a small child here.

The sudden tapping at the window coming from behind you caught you off guard. You looked over your shoulder to see that Dean had worked fast, he was standing in the pouring rain with both of your bags and a smile, Sam wasn’t too far behind as he grabbed his own belongings and slammed the trunk so nothing else could get wet. You opened up the door and got ready to make a run for it, but you felt someone wrap an arm around your waist, making you stay a little longer in the storm. You could feel yourself about to shout Dean’s name for what he was doing, but a giggle escaped your mouth instead when he decided to be a bit cheesy, giving you a quick kiss in the rain as a crack of thunder echoed through the sky. The possibility of having a night alone with Dean after taking a hot shower made you stand a little longer out in the storm to enjoy this moment, despite Sam calling out your name in an annoyed tone. One night off in a storm that lasted all night and not having to worry about the apocalypse for once? Yeah, that sounded like good idea to you.

The three of you headed inside to the hotel with your bags, and after your little scene in the parking lot, you were soaked to the bone and freezing. You let out a sigh of relief as you quickly stepped inside the hotel first after Sam held open the door. You grimaced at the feeling of your clothes sticking to your body and your shoes feeling a few pounds heavier from how much water they had collected from just the walk here. While you were expecting some two-star motel with a few sketchy looking guests to greet you, it rather surprising to see the complete opposite. The place was nice, and rather elegant looking. You looked around at the lobby to see that it was rather busy for being late in the evening. A few couples were checking in as a few people were enjoying the fire as another group enjoyed the bar scene. You had to admit, for being in the middle of nowhere, this place was pretty snazzy.

“Hi,” You greeted the man working the front desk this early evening, breaking his concentration away from the keyboard that he was diligently typing away on. He gave you a smile, wondering what of service he could be for the three of you. You placed your hands on the counter top as your eyes wandered down to his name tag to quickly read it, Chad. “Um, we don’t have any reservations, but I was wondering if you had two rooms available. One single, one double.”

“Let’s see here.” Chad’s fingers went back to the keyboard, and like he a lightening speed, he pulled up some information. You could see his face drop ever so slightly, as if he was about to break some bad news to you. Either there was one one double available, or Sam was gonna have to sleep in the Impala when you and Dean shared for the night. “I only have one single available. However, it looks like it might be your lucky day. The presidential suite just opened up not too long ago. Our reservations cancelled on us. Comes with a complimentary bottle of champagne and the bathtub alone is to die for. Very good for a couple looking to spend a nice, romantic night alone.“

You bit the inside of your cheek from his suggestion, wondering for a moment of how he could have possibly known that among the three of you that one of you were together. But then you realized Dean had been hovering over you, his arm outstretched to the counter as his eyes lit up at the idea of spending a night like that alone with you. He thought it could have been his way of making up for Valentine’s day after he fell into a pit of misery. You looked over your shoulder and at him, wondering if he wanted to spend that kind of money. But without a moment’s hesitance, he took out the credit card that wasn’t even his and placed it down on the counter.

"Sounds good to me. It’s been awhile since we got a night off. Right, sweetheart?” Dean looked down at you with a warm smile. The sight of him being his old self, happy and positive about the future head for the three of you, made a smile of your own spread across your lips. It’s been so long since you had seen him like this. You reached out your hand, and like a teenager in puppy love, your fingers interviewed with his behind your back and gave it a squeeze. Chad went back to typing at the keyboard, getting all the information into the computer. Dean took a moment to look around at the lobby, even he was a bit surprised to see this place was crowded with so many people. “Busy night.”

“Any port in a storm, I guess. If you could just fill this out, please.” Chad slid over the receipt for Dean to sign, all of you quietly chuckling to yourselves at the man’s harmless joke. As the oldest Winchester grabbed the pen, he titled his neck to the side to write down the fake name he signed up the credit card for. Chad’s eyes narrowed slightly for a moment when he took notice, and like an efficient worker, he pulled out a tissue when he noticed the blood. “Sir, I think you got a little…shaving nick there.”

Dean grabbed the tissue and pressed it against his wound, taking notice that he was bleeding for a cut that he didn’t even realize that he’d gotten. You furrowed your brow and took an inspection for yourself. "Wait,” You fingers reached to touch his chin so you could take a closer look at the small gash. “How’d you get that—”

“Your key, madame.”

“Thanks.” You said, looking back over at Chad when he held up your keys for your own rooms. You gave him a smile and handed Sam’s key over to him, growing a bit happier at the thought of being only a few minutes away of a hot shower. But before that, you were dying for something to eat when your stomach began to quiet rumble. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a coffee shop around here, would you?”

“Buffet. All you can eat.” Chad said. He gestured an arm to the bar area that had just about everything one would need to be happy for a night like this. You could feel your mouth practically watering at the sight of all the kinds of food you could have. It’d been awhile since you had eaten something decent. And it only got better from what Chad mentioned the dessert options that made the oldest Winchester very happy. “Best pie in the tri-state area.”

You and the boys decided to head to the dining area and get settled into your hotel rooms once you had something in your stomach. Sam got a table as Dean headed straight for the display of pie that he couldn’t resist any longer. You decided to browse the options of food and see what you could get. Everything looked fresh and hot from the steam that was vaporizing into the air. You stopped for a moment as you began debating if you wanted Chinese or Italian food. Maybe you should have taken it easy with the food. Just because you were at a buffet didn’t mean you should push your appetite. You hadn’t been eating much due to the stresses of your own. But you had been keeping it under control. You bit your bottom lip in anticipating as you reached for the food that you decided on having tonight.

“Heaven, right?”

You suddenly felt the metal spoon slip out of your hand at the sound of a male voice coming from behind you. You could feel every muscle in your body stiffen when you realized how familiar it sounded. Ever since your last talk, he’d been getting better at catching you off guard, coming out from the corner of your eye and appearing when you reassured yourself that it was just a trick. You wanted to believe a little longer that he could only appear in your nightmares. It’d been a few days since you had talked to him last. You slowly moved your eyes to see who it was as your breathing began to become more shallow. Every part of you was expecting to see Lucifer, but it seemed luck had been on your side today. A small smile spread across your lips when you realized it was just another guest trying to make conversation. He pointed a finger to the food that you had been eyeing. You let out a laugh from his question and quickly grabbed what you wanted.

“Trust me, pal—Better.” You gave him a smile and began passing by the dessert section as Dean got what he wanted for dinner. As you eyed all sorts of different pies, you couldn’t help yourself but grab the blackberry that was sitting on top on one of the desserts and pop it into your mouth. You looked back over at the man to see that he caught you in the act. “Gotta live dangerously sometimes.”

The man gave you a bit of a smile before looking away, not finding your actions that that funny as he turned his head to finding out what he wanted for dinner. You made your way through the tables to find Dean had settled on two pieces of pie as Sam had a plate full of food himself, but was so caught up in trying to find a signal on his cell phone, he let it grow cold. You sat down at the end of the table and reached for a fork. But you felt a sudden wave of nausea hit you from the slight anxiety attack that you had just a minute ago. You placed down utensils back down to the table and and pressed a hand against your stomach, wondering if the feeling would go away fast as it arrived. Dean was about to dig into his warm pie, but when he noticed that you and Sam hadn’t touched your food, he let out a sigh of annoyance.

“Sam, put down the phone. And Y/N, it wouldn’t kill you if you ate something for once.” Dean ordered at the both of you. You reached for the fork against as you tried your hardest to get yourself to eat just a bite. But you began to shuffle around the food, Sam made a remark about how all of you should hit the road. “In this storm? It’s—”

“It’s biblical. Maybe Sam’s right.” You had to admit that the younger Winchester might have been to on something here. You looked around the small dining area to see that most of the guests were caught up in conversation and enjoying the food. Your eyes landed on a woman who sat by herself with a martini, but never took a sip from it. “It’s friggin’ Noah’s ark out there, and we’re eating pie.”

“How many hours of sleep did either one of you get? What? Three? Four? Y/N, I don’t think you even slept at all.” Dean presumed. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, making sure he didn’t take a good look at your dark circles that you had tried to cover up with a bit of makeup to make you look alive. Beauty sleep seemed like a luxury you couldn’t afford with trying to find a way to stop the apocalypse always on your mind. Not to mention, your deal with the Devil that he wouldn’t let you forget about. “Bobby’s got his feelers out there, okay? We have talked with every hoodoo man and root woman in twelve states.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not giving up.” Sam said.

“Nobody’s giving up. Especially me.” Dean said right after his little brother, wanting to make that point clear enough so all of you could rest a little easier. You looked down at your food and tried to take a bite as Sam nodded his head, happy to know that all of you were back on the same page. But it was a bit daunting to take on the end of the world when there was so many other problems you had to worry about as well. The oldest Winchester seemed to have noticed you and his little brother were beginning to grow apprehensive yourselves about this working out for the best. “We’re gonna find a way to beat the Devil, okay? Soon. I can feel it. And we will find Cas, we’ll find Adam. But you guys are no good to me burnt out.”

Sam placed down his phone and tried his hardest to concentrate again on keeping a positive attitude like his brother. He nodded his head and reached for his fork. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Come on. We’ve actually got the night off for once.” Dean said. His lips stretched into a smile as he looked over at you, hoping he could get you into a better mood for the events that he was slowly starting to plan out. While they were going to be simple, it was something that you had deserved after the things he had said out of stupidity. You gave him some hope as you stabbed at the plate and put a piece of food into your mouth and smiled at him. “Let’s try to enjoy it.”

You could feel your nervousness beginning to grow less as you started to eat. The three of you slowly began to have a normal conversation for once over the past several months that didn’t have to deal with the apocalypse. It was moments like this you had missed. No tension was felt between the brothers and you confidently reached out to hold Dean’s hand underneath the table to make yourself appear like a couple without displaying it for the entire world. You liked knowing that you were with the people you loved, nobody else needed to know. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like a family again.

\+ + +

You and the boys headed for your hotel room after enjoying a warm dinner and some dessert that was actually quite amazing. You didn’t know how long it had been since you had a meal that wasn’t covered in grease or thrown in the microwave. And to top it off, you had a nice bottle of champagne waiting for you on ice with a tub that was to die for, in the words of Chad. You followed behind Dean as Sam headed down the hall for his room after the three of you said your farewells for the night. You stood next to the door that was marked as your own with your arms crossed over your chest, quietly waiting for Dean to unlock the door. But the man seemed to have gotten distracted when he let out a quiet laugh at something and pointed his index finger at the sight. You furrowed your brow and slowly looked down the hall, wondering what was so amusing.

“Oh my God.” You could feel your cheeks beginning to burn in embarrassment when you caught a couple making out and giggling as they tried to strip one another of their clothing. While you had to admit it was kind of cute, you weren’t going to put a finger and laugh like a child. “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m young at heart.” Dean said. He shoved the key into the lock and opened up the door, ever so eager to find out what this presidential suite looked like. Stepping inside, he switched on the light and looked around, you heard him whistle as he observed the interior of this place that was better than anything he’d ever stayed in. You shut the door behind and noticed that it was quite nice looking. There was a king sized bed with pillows that you could imagine yourself sinking into after a hot shower and a flat screen TV. Dean dropped your bags to the bed and noticed right away of the small gifts they left for each of you on the pillows. “Wow. Look at this. We’re like Rockefellers. And chocolates! You want yours, sweetheart?”

“Knock yourself out.” You said. Dean let out a greedy laugh as he eagerly snatched your small heart shape chocolate off from the pillow and unwrapped it after eating his. You began to walk over to the door that was opened slightly ajar to take a peek at the bathroom to see that it was something to die for, that was for sure. You shrugged off your jacket and threw it to the small table before heading over to see the bottle of champagne you’d been promised chilling in a bucket of nice and two glasses to drink it out of. The unexpected sound of thunder sent your eyes to the window. “Well, looks like the storm isn’t gonna pass anytime soon.”

“I hope not. This place is freaking awesome.” Dean said. You looked over to see that he had found an advertisement to his favorite channel of all time. “‘Casa Erotica 13’ on demand. Porn, pie and my girl. Hell, I don’t care if it rains for the rest of the week and leaves us trapped here. I’m gonna be a very happy man tonight.”

“Doesn’t this place give you…’Psycho’ vibes being in the middle of nowhere?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, wondering if Dean felt the same way as you did. You gotten your answer when he stared at you like you were speaking another language. “I mean, the storm. Creepily friendly guy who checked us in. And not to mention. What’s a four-star hotel doing in the middle of a no-star highway?”

“I don’t know. Maybe these people made the same wrong turn on the highway and got this place booming again.” Dean made a joke as he slowly walked forward to you. You cracked a small smile at his literary reference and looked over at the full length mirror to inspect your disheveled appearance from being caught in the rain. You tried to pat down your frizzy hair and wrinkled top from the rain. But a hand lightly pulled it away as you felt his other wrap around your hip, pulling you closer to him. “Don’t worry about Norman Bates coming for you in the shower. I’ll protect you, sweetheart.”

You gave a smile as you looked at your reflection, not evening flinching anymore at how the man standing behind you was a completely different person. His hand moved to brush your hair out of the way and began to softly tug at your shirt to give him access to your shoulder. You forced yourself to let out a soft giggle when Dean placed down a kiss on the naked skin. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, your eyes locked with a pair that weren’t the oldest Winchesters as he stared at you, wanting to see your reaction. He followed every single move that Dean made, and while it was the man that you loved that was touching you, his reflection was of the Devil. Each move Dean made, Lucifer followed swiftly in the mirror. He placed a trail of kisses until he reached the back of your ear. The sensitive spot that he knew you loved. But you forced yourself not to brush him off when you watched Lucifer do it to you. Dean looked into the mirror and held you tighter, not even noticing when your body had stiffened from his touch.

To the oldest Winchester, when he looked in the mirror, he was holding the woman he loved and adored. He didn’t know what was going on, as you leaned to control your outbursts since last time to keep him from worrying. You let out a sigh and shut your eyes for a second, hoping when you opened them back up, Lucifer would vanish at your meek attempt and you could be graced with the sight of Dean again. You were too tired to put anymore effort in like the other times. Maybe he was feeling sympathetic today. When you parted up one eye, you could feel a sinking feeling in your stomach when the Devil stared at you with a smile that made your skin want to crawl off your bone.

You quickly found yourself being torn away from your reflection in the mirror when you heard the sound of a female giggle echo through the room, followed by a quiet thumping hitting the wall. It took you a second to realize that it wasn’t coming from the TV, but the room next door with the couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Dean let out a chuckle that vibrated through your body, forcing you to finally step away from him. He thought it was because he was being a bit immature. But neither one of you were laughing when the quiet thumps turned into one that made you nearly jump a foot in the air. Your eyes went wide when you watched as the second thump caused a few bricks in the wall to come undone and the TV hang barely on a thread.

“I’m not a big expert in sex, but…I don’t think a guy going that hard would feel nice.”

“Or possible.” 

Neither one of you needed to speak another word before the both of you were opening the doorway and walking into the hallway. It seemed the two of you weren’t the only ones who had heard the ruckus. Sam peeked out himself and began walking to the room that was next to his on the right. The three of you exchanged concerned glances from what you had just heard. It was you who opened up the door to the room, wondering if you were going to be greeted with the sight of the couple hooking up. As you stepped inside, you were greeted with a messy bed, but nobody in sight. You furrowed your brow as Sam headed for the bathroom and Dean quietly followed behind you. All of you called out for anyone to answer, the only thing you got back was complete silence. You stopped in the middle of the room and placed your hands on your hips.

There wasn’t a single piece of evidence that someone had booked this room, there wasn’t even a suitcase here you saw the couple come in with. It was like they had vanished into thin air. You let out a quiet sigh as your foot stepped on the carpet, but you felt something hard sink into the sole of your shoe, making you quickly lift it up. You crouched down to pick up a ring from the ground, and with a quick inspection you noticed it was an engagement ring. Someone, despite how much they wanted to get out of here, wouldn’t leave behind something like this. You glanced up at the boys and raised a brow, all you were starting to wonder what was going on here.

“The, uh, the room next to ours—the couple that are, uh, joined at the lips.” Dean explained the situation to Chad when the three of you headed to the front desk to figure out what might have happened to the lovebirds that vanished into thin air. “Have you seen them?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Logan—the honeymooners?” Chad reached out and quickly typed something into the keyboard with that wicked speed of his to get the answer. “They checked out. Is something the matter?”

“They checked out?” Sam repeated after the man, sounding a bit surprised at what he heard.

“Mmhm.” Chad answered. His eyes wandered back over to the computer screen to make sure he was right before looking back at the younger Winchester with a smile. “Mm, just now.”

“Really? It sort of seemed like they were, um…in the middle of something.” You said, trying to give the man a hint about their activities. Chad shrugged his shoulders, acting as if he didn’t know what more you wanted him to say. You lifted up the diamond ring for him to see as you continued on speaking. “Yeah, and it’s kind of weird for honeymooners to check out without this.”

“Oh, dear. I’ll just put that right in the lost and found. Don’t you worry.” Chad reassured you as reached out and plucked the ring right out from your hand for safekeeping. You forced yourself not to give him a dirty look from the way he was acting as your lips stretched into a grateful smile. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Uh, no.” Dean said. “No, we’re good.”

Chad gave all of you a smile, “Super-fantastic.”

You turned away from the front desk and followed behind the brothers, wanting to distance yourself from him far as possible. He was obviously not telling you something. You looked over your shoulder to observe Chad when he turned his back to the three of you and stashed the ring somewhere for safekeeping. You muttered underneath your breath that Chad was creepy, Sam scoffed in agreement from your assumption.

“All right, well, Y/N and I’ll scope out the joint, and you keep an eye on Norman Bates over here.” Dean suggested, knowing there was something going on here that all of you couldn’t ignore. He rolled his eyes in frustration and headed for the opposite side of the hotel. There went all of his plans of what he wanted to get done tonight that he hadn’t accomplished in what felt like forever. “I mean, one night off. Is that too much to ask?”

“Apparently so.” You muttered underneath your breath.

Dean offered to take the first floor of the hotel as Sam occupied the lobby, leaving you alone and with the task of sweeping the second floor. That was something you could handle. You headed inside the elevator and pressed the button for the floor. It was a few moments before the double doors opened, revealing a long hallway of many different rooms that needed exploring. You let out a sigh and started walking, still not exactly sure what you should have been looking for. Maybe you were dealing with a Norman Bates spirit. Perhaps it was a demon who watched “Psycho” too many times to count. Whatever it was, danger always seemed to find you.

You pulled out the EMF reader from your jacket and decided to start from there. The silence that followed you down the hall wasn’t eerie at all. You watched as the needle began to slowly move back and forth as a buzzing quietly hummed. But it wasn’t enough for you to get worried about supernatural activities. Maybe the honeymooners were just having some hardcore sex. They dashed when they realized what kind of damage they had made by accident. A quiet scoff escaped you at the explanation and passed another room.

“Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream  
Make him the cutest that I’ve ever seen  
Give him two lips like roses and clover  
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over…”

You quickly stopped dead in your tracks when you heard muffled sounds of music playing, You would have thought someone was being a rude guest, but you watched as the needle on the reader jump and buzz like crazy as you passed, all before going back to normal as you wandered down the hall. Out of curiosity, you took a step back, making the reader go off, you furrowed your brow, wondering if what you were dealing with could be in there. You looked around the hall to see that nobody was around. You tucked away the reader back into your pocket and pressed your ear against the door, wondering if you could hear any sort of noise that would give any indication the room was occupied. But you just heard the music continue on.

“Sandman, I’m so alone  
Don’t have nobody to call my own  
Please turn on your magic beam  
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream…”

Every fiber in your body was telling you to turn around, but like a moth to a flame, you reached out your hand and touched the doorknob, and slowly, you twisted it until you heard the music become clearer. You stepped inside the room and looked around. It was empty. There was no sign of someone occupying the room. The bed was made and the lights were off, but music was playing from somewhere. And there was a need to turn it off quick as possible. You flipped on the lights to look around the room and figure out where the music was coming from, after sweeping the place, your eyes spotted an old record player that looked to be out of place in the modern interior of the room. You furrowed your brow and looked around the room once more, wanting to find a reason of why you walked in here. And why you suddenly felt like it was a mistake.

“Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream  
Make him the cutest that I’ve ever seen  
Give him the word that I’m not a rover  
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over  
Sandman, I’m so alone…”

You quickly looked over to the right of you when you swore you saw someone there, ever so quietly singing along to the music. You nervously swallowed as you tried to regain your head back. You walked across the room and decided to turn off this music, as you lifted up the needle from the record, you expected it to stop, but it kept playing. Their cheery voices continued on singing as you felt the heaviness in your stomach that you had felt not too long ago in your hotel room creep back. Ever so slowly, you moved your fingers away from the record player, and to your nose when you felt something warm trickle down to your top lip. You brushed your index finger against the substance and quickly examined it. It was blood. You knew this wasn’t a good sign. You knew he was here, but you didn’t know where just yet. He was getting better at this game. And you knew this was just another trick of his, just like earlier.

Lately he comes when you had least expected it. You always chalk up the last time you saw his face out from the corner of your eye or in a face that passed you by as a trick your mind was playing on you. But there were moments when he wanted to have a little chat, see if you moved on to the idea of trying to kill him after he gave you that valuable information. At first it was dreams, but he’d gotten better. Now, he came whenever he wanted.

Lucifer was more of a jokester than the Devil. He talked for what felt like hours. Topics varied from the weather, how much of a drab the apocalypse was coming along…what he was going to do to Sam to get him to say yes. The way he spoke about it was like some funny story he was just dying to tell you. It made you sick to your stomach. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Then there were times where got angry when you ignored him. Lucifer said that he was going to make you regret ever running away from him. But the punishment wouldn’t come in the form of torture or pain. No, he wouldn’t do that to you. He was going to be the Devil on your shoulder. He was going to make sure you knew he was coming for you. And he was going to make you his. His queen. The mother of darkness, is what he liked to call it recently.

“Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream  
Give him a pair of eyes with a ‘come-hither’ gleam  
Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci  
And lots of wavy hair like Liberace  
Mr Sandman, someone to hold…”

This used to be your favorite song. When you were younger, your mother would hold you close and sing softly to you. Both of you would enjoy recreating the words as your own. It was sort of like her way of giving you a lullaby that you could remember when you were older and scared. Sort of like tonight..or right now, to be exact. You used to sing the song to yourself when you would get out of bed in the middle of the night when you had a nightmare and needed her help to scare away the monsters underneath your bed.

“Would be so peachy before we’re too old. So please turn on your magic beam. Mr Sandman, bring us, please, please…” You quietly sung the sung underneath your breath as you forced your feet to walk back to the front door of the room, suddenly wanting to get out of here. As you opened your mouth to sing the last word the line, you knew it wasn’t in the context in the music you spoke it for. “Please.”

You nervously swallow as you watch his lips stretch into a smile. Lucifer stood in front of you. Not in the flesh. Not in a dream. But as some kind of hallucination that you couldn’t get rid of. That’s why you had felt your head suddenly starting to hurt and your nose began to bleed. He was testing to see how far he could break this new sort of connection he discovered with you. You felt yourself growing mad. You didn’t know if what you saw was him playing with you, or your head making you go crazy out of your own paranoia. But you knew he was pulling the strings when he spoke, and he stood there when you tried your hardest to make him leave, only you felt yourself overcome with pounding headache.

“I like this little game of cat and mouse. It makes the hunt so much more…exciting. But I know how much it takes out of you to be speaking like this. You want to make this easier and tell me where you are?” Lucifer tried to start the conversation with a civil attitude. But you remained silent, you were lost in your own fear, you didn’t even move a muscle as the music repeated itself. You watched as the Devil titled his head to the side, like he was thinking to himself, wondering what he could say to get under your skin. “Fine. Keep running. But I’m getting closer, Y/N. I can feel it. It’ll only be a matter of time until you stick to the end of your bargain. You didn’t forget our deal, didn’t you?”

You forced yourself not to say anything. He knew about everything. But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, see if you were finally starting to see this his way. You stood there like a deer in headlights, trying to find a way to get yourself out of here before it was too late.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

“I know you wouldn’t. And you’ll come like a good girl when I tell you to. Or else, Y/N…You won’t like the consequences.”

You didn’t waste a second when you ran for the front door and quickly slammed it behind you. You tried your hardest to back away slowly from the door as you followed the sounds of Dean calling your name. While you turned around to walk down the hallway and find the man, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks, feeling a slight pain hit your neck. You furrowed your brow in confusion and went to touch the wound, when you felt something sticky, you realized your nose wasn’t the only thing that was bleeding. Rubbing your fingertips together, you decided to let Dean wait for a few seconds longer as you headed to the bathroom to clean yourself up. The less questions he needed to ask about you, the better. You a few of your own from what was going on around here.

\+ + +

“An elephant?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, an elephant?”

“Like, full-on Babar.”

You thought you were the only one seeing things in the hotel, but it turns out after Dean tracked you down, the boys were losing their own heads from the tricks of the hotel. Sam had followed behind Chad like he was told to do, but he didn’t get very far.One turn down the hallway and he disappeared, there was no doors or exits for the man to sneak out of if he noticed a shadow following behind. It was like he’d vanished into thin air. And then there was the matters of what Dean said. He was walking down the hallway, scanning the place like you had, and innocently passed by an open door, not giving it much thought. But there was the matter of a life sized elephant creeping out from the corner of his eye…and the familiar noise the animal would make. Dean swore up and down that what he saw was real, and not some hotel guest who had made the stupid mistake of leaving his door open when he gotten out of the shower when he took a second peek into the room. Just to be safe.

You didn’t know if you should start laughing or crying at how your night was turning out. All you wanted to do tonight was slip into bed and have a peaceful night’s sleep for once. It felt like weeks since you closed your eyes and had a dream that Lucifer had intervened, not to mention when you were still awake, every single moment of your life has felt like an anxiety attack that wouldn’t end. You were constantly on edge, your nerves were frayed, your mental capacity and senses were sharper than normal, but it was like that like that because you felt like someone was watching your every move. And not to mention that little voice in your head. She’d been there for what felt like your entire life, suggesting you to do the wrong thing, doing things that would make you happy, but you had been forcing her to stay quiet. You knew what it was. It was your inner demon talking. She wasn’t going to win. Not today, not ever.

Sam wondered what the hell was going on here as the three of you walked into the lobby again, wondering if you were going to spot Chad again, or anyone else, for that matter. You noticed that the place was clear of any souls. You furrowed your brow and looked around, wondering if you were able to spot another person, besides the three of you. But there was nobody. Just you and the boys, and the fireplace that was quietly crackling away with nobody else to enjoy it. Sam was suspicious that there was foul play to blame. You looked away from the front desk and to him when he walked over to the double doors that was the only entrance around here. He tried to open one of the doors with a simple tug, but it wouldn’t budge. You scoffed and rolled your eyes from what you should have seen coming.

“Let me guess—it’s locked.” Dean said, deciding to take an educated guess from what he saw himself. “So, what? The roaches check in, they don’t check out?”

“Told you something was creepy about this place. Think about how we got here.” You muttered as you looked over at the boys. “That detour on I-90? The friggin’ hurricane?”

Dean looked at you with a confused expression, “You saying we were lead here?”

“I think Y/N’s onto something.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. A look of uneasiness washed over his face when he started to think more about this situation. He knew the missing couple and an elephant was going to be the least of your problems. “Like rats in a maze.”

You and the boys decided to stick together in attempt at playing it safe when all the guests seemed to have vanished, staff included. You followed behind as the three of you headed into the kitchen when the once busy dining area was reduced to nothing but perfectly set up table, as if nobody had been there just an hour ago. Stepping deeper into the room, you noticed right away someone had been here from the sounds of something boiling on the stove. You sniffed the air to take a whiff of what they were cooking, but your nose immediately scrunched as you tried your hardest not to vomit. The smell was one that caught you off guard, it was like burning flesh. And you’ve had burned enough bodies to get quite familiar with the smell. You wondered if this hotel’s secret to good food was soylent green.

But the supplies that you saw they had lying around on shelves looked innocent enough from fresh produce and jarred supplies of spices and canned good. As you walked deeper into the kitchen, you came across the boiling water, but it was far from clear when you peered down at the large pot. It was a crimson red that you could identify with in more than just food. Out of a terrifying curiosity, you grabbed the metal spoon and twirled around the contents, hoping you were going to pick up chunks of tomatoes.

“Please be tomato soup. Please be tomato soup.” You muttered underneath your breath as you bit the inside flesh of your cheek, praying for the best. The boys peered over when they took notice of what you were trying to do. When you felt something weigh down the spoon, you slowly lifted it up to examine it, all before letting it fall back into the pot when you forced yourself not to let out a terrified noise. You quickly stepped away as you crossed your arms over your chest, not liking the pair of human eyes that stared at you. “Told you. This has got ‘Psycho’ written all over yeah.”

“Yeah. And I’m guessing Hannibal the Cannibal isn’t his guest of honor tonight.” Dean said. He looked around the kitchen again, wondering if he might be able to find anything, a bloody knife or a severed finger, to tell him what was going on here. He noticed a walk in freezer right across the room. It looked big enough to hide lots of things…like a lot of bodies, if he wanted to be frank here. Dean nodded his head to the freezer and pointed a finger, directing you and his brother’s attention. “Hey. Wanna see if they got leftovers?”

Sam was the brave soul who decided to venture to the freezer, not all that curious to see what they were hiding in there, but all of you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be slabs of beef and pork you’d seen at dinner. You hovered behind the younger Winchester as he put a hand against the door and slowly lowered himself to the small black window that gave a peek inside the room. As he peered in closer, something caught the two of you off by surprise, you let out a gasp when you saw a hand slapped itself against the window. A second later, the man you had talked to at dinner quickly pleaded for help as at least a half dozen others crowded around, begging for you to release them. Sam tried his hardest to get the door to open, but it wouldn’t budge with a heavy lock. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try picking at the lock. 

“Hurry up!” Dean ordered at his brother as you stepped forward, trying your attempt at seeing how snug the lock was on there as Sam tried his hardest to get out the tools he would need.

“I’m going as fast as I—” Sam argued at the man, struggling to get his fingers to work fast, but his words died at the tip of his tongue for a moment when he noticed when he noticed all of you had some company. You looked over your shoulder for a moment, wondering why Sam was suddenly staring off like a deer in headlights. Your face dropped into panic at what you saw. “As I can.”

Dean noticed that you and his brother were frozen in your spot, he had a sneaky suspicion of why. "There’s somebody behind me, isn’t there?”

You slowly nodded your head to answer the man, but your eyes wouldn’t leave the two men standing behind him. Your lips stretched into a smile as you slowly waved at the men, hoping a little friendly behavior could go a long way. But you realized politeness didn’t go very far when you felt one of them drag you along after they got a good grip on the boys. You knew there was no chance you were going to get free as they dragged you out from the kitchen and down the hall. All before you were being thrown into a pair of double doors that looked like another dining area. But when you glanced around the room after you noticed there was at least a dozen people occupying the place, but you had a feeling you didn’t crash a party. You were wanted here. You straightened yourself out and threw the two men a dirty glare from their behavior before looking over at the other guests, taking notice all of them were wearing name tags.

“Hello, my name is…” Oh, no. These weren’t normal names you would have suspected. You narrowed your eyes on names that you spotted like Ganesh, or better known as the Hindu God of Success. He’d appeared as the elephant in most art pieces honored in his name. Which explained what Dean had seen. You looked over your shoulder to see the one that had grabbed you and spotted his name tag, Zao Shen. The kitchen God who’s folklore followed to bestow riches or poverty on families. And the woman standing across the room with a cold expression on her face when she made eye contact with you was Kali; the goddess of death and doomsday. There was so many familiar names, you could feel your head starting to spin even more. And you had a feeling they weren’t going to let you walk out freely.

“Something tells me this isn’t a Shriner convention.” Dean muttered, deciding to take a wild guess here from what was going on.

You let out a breath as you looked over at the other people in the group, trying to figure out who else you were dealing with. A room full of pagan Gods. A freezer full of people. And the first course was about to be served when you heard the squeaky wheels of a cart being pushed by Chad, well, when you looked down at his name tag, it was Mercury. Known best for being the messenger boy for Gods. Which explained why he was so fast. You could feel your stomach tighten in discomfort when he appeared in the room with a covered try. He gave the crowd a grin as he slowly lifted up the silver cover, showing off the first course. A severed head and all its cooked organs. A round of applause broke out through the crowd as they congratulated the chef for his hard work. But you were finding it hard to see in front of you when you felt a spotlight suddenly being pointed at you and the boys, catching you off guard. You squinted and placed a hand in front of your face, trying to block out the light.

“Ladies and gentlemen…our guests of honor have arrived.”

You gained your sight back as your arm dropped to the ground when you heard what sounded like a British voice speak. You looked straight ahead to see a man standing with Kali had a smile on his face, and just seconds later, you could feel all eyes on you. The man who had given you a lovely introduction was Balder; the god known best for innocence and reconciliation. Whatever was going on here, you knew that it wasn’t good. It never was with a pagan god. And an entire room full of them spelled trouble.

\+ + +

You crossed your arms over your chest as you sat in one of the chairs that was so graciously offered to you. And by offering, you were tossed down into one, and given a clear instruction to stay put with a glare one of them gave you before walking over to the U shaped table to get this meeting started. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you tilted your head up, wondering what this was about. Balder and Kali sat at the head of the table as the other gods sat on opposite sides, seeming to hold their peace with quiet mutters of different conversations. Balder got everyone’s attention when he stood up from his chair and lightly tapped his fork against his champagne glass, drawing the room to a complete silence before greeting everyone with a warm smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. Well, in all of my centuries I have never thought I’d see this—this many gods under one roof.” Balder said. Sam slowly looked over at you and his brother with a bit of a panicked expression from what he heard. You raised a brow, wondering what he was expecting to hear, the name tags alone with human meat for a meal was clear giveaway that something bad was going on here. “Now, before we get down to the brass tracks, some ground rules—no slaughtering each other. Curb your wrath. Oh, and, uh, keep your hands off the local virgins. We’re trying to keep a low profile here.”

“Oh, we are so screwed.” You muttered as you sank deeper into your chair.

“Now, we all know why we’re here. The Judeo-Christian apocalypse looms over us. I know we’ve all had our little disagreements in the past, but the time has come to put those aside and look toward the future. ‘Cause if we don’t, we won’t

one.” Balder said, giving some bitter truth to the situation that you had been trying. You could feel all eyes shift forward to you and the boys when Balder pointed his finger at you. This was why the three of you were here in the first place. “Now, we do have three very valuable bargaining chips—Michael and Lucifer’s vessel. Along with Lucifer’s very own, and only, creation. The question is…what do we do know?”

“Better let us go now if you don’t wanna die a bloody death.” You thought out loud to yourself as you pretended to scratch your neck, turning your gaze away from crowd so nobody could hear what you had just said.

“Anybody have any bright ideas, speak up.” Balder continued on, not seeming to have noticed your remark as he tried to give a sense of community and peacefulness here among his own kind. “This is a safe room.”

Zao Shen had a few ideas of his own when you watched him get up from his seat, all though you couldn’t understand him, you could tell that he was passionately angry. You flinched as you looked over at Dean from what you heard him whisper. “Oh, I don’t like his tone.”

“Kill them? Why?” Ganesh asked, translating to what the other god had said. He rolled his eyes and looked at the three of you like you were nothing more than the scum on the bottom of his shoe. And being in the presence of something so low disgusted him. “So the angels here can bring them back again?” 

“I don’t know what everybody’s getting so worked up about. This is just a couple of angels having a slip fight. It’s no Armageddon. Everybody knows when the world comes to an end, the great serpent Jormungander rises up, and I, myself, will be eaten by a big wolf.” Odin told of his own folklore that would tell the end of times. He couldn’t help himself but seem nonchalant about the entire situation as he leaned back in his seat when he let out a chuckle. Zao Shen, however, muttered something underneath his breath as he rolled his eyes. Odin was quick to notice of his fellow god’s very rude behavior. “Oh, yeah? And why is that? Because your beliefs are so much more realistic? The whole world’s getting carried around on the back of a giant turtle. Give me a break.”

Odin and Zao Shen were quick to get into a fight that you couldn’t understand. You knew things were going downhill when Odin grabbed a steak knife from the table and quickly pushed himself to his feet, pointing the blade directly at the other man. You looked over at the boys and subtly nodded your head to the doors when you noticed that everyone else was absorbed into the fight, wondering what was going to happen next. You and the boys managed to get yourselves out of your chairs and faced the doorway, but you only made it that far, because when you thought about taking a step, you went one step backwards when the chandelier went crashing down just a foot away from where you attempted to be. You rolled your eyes in frustration.

“Stay.” Kali said. But from her tone of her voice, you knew it was more of a command than a polite suggestion. You, however, wanted to push her buttons just a bit harder to see what kind of reaction you might be able to get at her when you turned around to face her. Sam didn’t think that was such a good idea to take a woman on like the goddess Kali when he roughly nudged you with his elbow. Rolling your eyes, you looked over at the woman, wondering what she was going to say next. Kali slowly dragged her gaze away from you and to the guests, wanting to make one thing very clear. “We have to fight. These archangels—the only thing they understand is violence. This ends in blood. There’s no other way. It’s them or us.”

“Well, all of us better become fast friends if you want to live past tonight. Because you have no idea what you’re getting you’re itself into. You are signing your death warrants if you keep us here.” You warned them. You ignored the brothers attempt at keeping quiet as you looked at the small room full of gods that wouldn’t stand a chance against someone like Lucifer. Odin, however, quietly scoffed as he muttered a remark that sounded like an insult. What did a little half demon know? “I might not be powerful and wise as you, Santa, but I’m hell of a lot smarter than any of you pagans. Thank you very much. And if you wanna poke the beast, by all means. Go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when there’s nothing left of you but the blood on the walls after he slaughters each and every one of you.”

The room fell into an eerie silence from what you had said, while most were starting to think over the magnificent plan that sounded good on paper. And you had to be honest, it was smart catching the three of you off guard like this. But they were taking on a much bigger threat than a couple of hunters. This was the Devil, and you knew how persistent he could be to get what he wanted. You looked over at Kali, wondering if she wanted to try and continue with this master plan of hers. You could see a glint in her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. She sure kept up to her name. She was a goddess who radiated fire that demanded those to feel her wrath if they do tested her. And it seemed one of them was about to foolishly put his hand to the flame.

“With all due respect..ma’am…” Mercury was the poor, unfortunate soul who slowly raised his hand like a child asking permission to speak. Kali narrowed her eyes at him, but she let him continue, wondering what sort of foolish plan he was going to try and suggest. “Perhaps she’s right. We haven’t even tried talking to them.”

Kali didn’t think being passive to the enemy worked for her. You watched as Mercury began to slowly reach his hand to the collar of his uniform, struggling to breathe as the woman slowly began to choke him without even having to lift a finger. He tried his hardest to unbutton the collar of his shirt as he leaned over from the blood that started to pool in his mouth from what she was doing to him. You didn’t like what was going on here, or any of these gods for that matter, but if you wanted to beat the enemy, they needed to start trusting one another. And not strangling one another until they looked like they were barely going to last another second from what she was doing to him. You warned her to stop what she was doing, but the woman merely looked at you with a bit of a smirk, thinking she had the upper hand here. It took Balder speaking the woman’s name in a strong tone to get Kali to release her force around Mercury’s neck.

“Well,” You looked over at the woman from her demonstration of power over her fellow peers to show not to get on her bad side. But you thought it’d be only a matter of time until she started picking people off until there was nobody left, except for her. “And here I thought I had the anger issues.”

“And who asked you for your opinion?” Kali asked with a bitter tone of voice. She seemed to have heard your remark from across the room, like you wanted to. She looked over at you with a bit of a glare, slightly edging you on for a fight. You crossed your arms over your chest and straightened your shoulders out, showing her you weren’t the least bit afraid of what she could do to you.

"When you trapped me in this room.” You answered for her. “Now, do you want to continue on this fight or should I just sit back down and watch all of you slaughter one another?”

“How about I start with you?”

"Bring it on. You’re not the first pagan god I’ve killed. And you certainly won’t be the last.”

Sam was becoming a bit worried about what you were doing as he looked over at his older brother, not sure what to do as you only pushed Kali’s buttons to see if she would hold true to her threat. You had every intention of going over there and starting a fight with the woman as Kali had a glint in her eye. Dean shrugged his shoulders as he muttered something about this turning into a cat fight. But, before anyone could hold true to their promises, you looked over your shoulder when you heard the double doors swing open, and arrived a very late guest. Your face dropped at who you saw walk right through the entrance with a grin on his face, acting like he owned the joint. To the people in the room, he was known as the trickster. To you, after a few years of trying to kill him, you knew him as Gabriel—the archangel. And the brother to two pissed off brothers that wanted to this world crumble as he stood on the sidelines.

“Ladies, ladies! Can’t we all just get along?” Gabriel always knew how to make an entrance, and tonight was no exception. Dean attempted to speak the angel’s real name, but with a quick snap of his fingers, Gabriel had it where the three of you tried your hardest to get even the slightest sound above a whisper out, but to no avail. “Y/N and her goons. It’s always wrong place, worst time with you mutton heads, huh?”

Balder pushed himself to his feet to greet the unwelcome guest by his fake name, “Loki.”

“Good seeing you, too. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.” Gabriel said, brushing off the lack of hospitality to the fellow crowd. The reason why he was here was far more important than just to show here uninvited and raise a little hell like how everyone viewed him as. “I’m here to talk about the elephant in the room.” Ganesh had found offense to the angel’s words as he attempted to push himself to his feet and make Gabriel regret those words, but he quickly raised a hand and corrected himself. “Not you. The Apocalypse. We can’t stop it, gang. But first things first.” Your face dropped into a cold, hard glare when Gabriel turned around to face the three of you, and since you didn’t have the luxury of talking, your body language would do the trick. “The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later.”

All it took was a snap of Gabriel’s fingers before you and the boys found yourselves in another part of the hotel, if you had guessed from the interior of the place. You let out a breath as you looked around the room, all of you slowly processed what just happened now that you were a safe distance away. Dean tried to process in words of what had happened as you sat yourself down on the bed, suddenly needing that little piece of milk chocolate wrapped in gold foil. You unwrapped the package and tossed it to the ground, you shook your head at how a simple night turned into another ride on the apocalypse trip that never seemed to end.

“By the way, next time I say ‘Let’s keep driving,’ uh, let’s keep driving.” Sam suggested. Dean rolled his eyes and nodded his head in agreement. The younger Winchester let out a sigh as he tried to figure out the next logical step into figuring out how the hell all of you were gonna get a room full of pagan gods and an archangel that he had a feeling wasn’t here for the three of you. “Uh, all right, so, what’s our next move?”

“I-I—I don’t know.” Dean admitted, he chuckled at how he was coming up short here. “Y/N, you got some big plan in that head of yours? You’ve been running your mouth tonight. Why not give us a suggestion to get the hell out of here?”

“I say we grab those poor saps out of the freezer—bust them out so they don’t get turned into a second course.” You suggested as you reached for the other candy across the bed and began to unwrap the foil once. “Gank a few freaks along the way if we’re lucky.”

“And when are you ever lucky?” You huffed out a frustrated breath as you leaned over slightly to the side to acknowledge the archangel that popped out of thin air. You narrowed your eyes on him to see that he was casually sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the table and his head resting on his arm. The mere sight of him made you suddenly become overwhelmed with anger. But you kept yourself calm long enough to speak to him.

“Well, I’m graced with your presence once more. There’s a room full of pagan gods that are holding us hostage and I haven’t slept in about two days. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” You sarcastically spoke with a chipper tone, yet your face was settled into a dirty glare. You tossed the crumpled foil over to where the archangel was sitting. He didn’t seem all that amused when you hit him directly in the face, hitting your exact target as you hoped. It was his turn to look at you with an annoyed glare as he threw the trash to the ground. “And before you say something stupid, let me stop you by saying this. Bite me.”

“Maybe later, princess.” Gabriel remarked. “When you calmed down a bit.”

“There is gonna be no later when I get my hands on you, you son of a bitch!” You jumped off the bed and lunged for the angel, but you found yourself being pinned back by Sam when he managed to grab a hold of you by the arm so you wouldn’t claw the angel’s eyes out like you desired. He knew it would be like poking the beast, nothing good would come out of it, despite the brothers having the urge to somehow express their own sense of frustration. “I should have know. This has your stink all over it from the jump.” 

“You think I’m behind this? Please. And here I thought you were the brains of this sad looking operation. I’m the Costner to your Houston.” Gabriel said. He pushed himself up from the couch and walked over to the three of you. You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering what exactly he meant by that. “I’m here to save your ass, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh my,” You placed a hand on your chest and spoke with a bit of a southern drawl, pretending to be a damsel in distress. “My hero.”

“While I would appreciate your knack for sarcasm on any other given day, we don’t have time for it tonight, Y/N. Those gods are either gonna dust you or use you as bait.” Gabriel gave you the cold, hard truth of the matter. “Either way, you’re uber-boned, princess.”

“Wow—wasn’t it just a couple months ago you were telling us to play our roles?” You asked him, wanting to be perfectly clear about what was going on here. “You were screwing with us, jackass. And don’t call me princess. It’s creepy and I’m not five years old anymore.”

“Does ‘Queen of the Damned’ sound better?” Your face dropped as your jaw clenched tighter from his jab that hit a little close to home. He gave you a smirk, as if he thought what his brother was doing to you was all some kind of funny joke. “Hey, stop looking like you’re sucking on a lemon, Y/N. Not my fault you sold your dark little soul to my little bro. You and Luci are gonna run off into the sunset like how you promised him. It’s just a matter of time. And these two bozos are gonna dance the big lambada. It’s face. But not tonight. Not here.”

“Why do you suddenly care about our well being?” You asked him as your eyes narrowed on him, wondering what his true motive was. “Last time I asked for your help, you laughed at me.”

“That’s because you wanted me to spill my guts about how to stop this. Like I’d tell you. And I know you’re not gonna like what Lucifer had in mind to change you into a demon. There’s still a bit of humanity in that rotten personality of yours. I’m here to…help.” Gabriel said. You looked at him with a bit more of what appeared as a confused expression, wondering what made him change his mind a few weeks ago from the last time you had spoken to him. “Me and Kali…we had a thing together. Chick was all hands. And what can I say? I’ve got a soft spot for the bad girls. You and her are a lot alike.”

“I’m flattered, really. And while I would love to hear about your past relationship with Kali, we got a real problem. Satan’s coming to dinner. So, either we set him a spot at the table, or all of us better become friends if we wanna see tomorrow. Do you think they stand a chance against Satan?” You wondered. A hotel full of pagan gods, an archangel and two hunters should be enough to take down something like the Devil, but Dean thought you were crazy at possibly suggesting a thing. “Hey, if you guys have any other ideas, I’m all ears.”

“It’s a bad idea. Lucifer is gonna turn them into finger paint.” Gabriel said, quickly shutting down your idea before any more thought could be put into it. “So let’s get going when the going’s good.”

“Okay, well, great. Why don’t you just zap us out of here?” Dean asked. He would be happy enough to be far, far away from this place if he could.

“Would if I could. But Kali’s got you by the short and curlies.” Gabriel said. Your nose scrunched up slightly at that saying, it always sounded a bit odd at to you. While you asked him what that exactly meant, you knew it explained the mark Dean had found on his neck and the scratch you got in the hallway. “It’s a blood spell. You kids are on a leash. Means that we gotta solve this problem with a bit of the old black magic.”

“God, I hate you.” You muttered underneath your breath when you watched as Gabriel pulled out what appeared to be a small bottle to freshen his mouth up so it was minty fresh.You knew well enough of what the angel meant, and the visual alone made you cringe. “So, while you’re off doing whatever kinky crap you’re thinking of with Kali, the boys and I are gonna get the hor dourves out of the freezer.”

“Forget it.” Gabriel said. “It’s gonna be hard enough sneaking you mooks out of here.”

“They called you ‘Loki,’ right? Which means they have no idea who you are.” You said. He nodded his head as a small smirk spread across his lips from his clever planning of staying out of the limelight. But you had a plan to make him do exactly what you wanted with a bit of blackmail. “Okay, well, how about you do what we say, or I’ll tell the Legion of Doom out there your secret identity. And they don’t seem like a real pro-angel crowd.”

“I’ll take your voices away.”

“I’ll write it down.”

“I’ll cut off your hands.”

“Well, then people are gonna be asking, ‘Why are you guys running around with no hands’?”

It was Gabriel’s turn to look like he was sucking on a lemon when his lips pursed out, knowing damn well you had him back into a corner. You stood up straighter as you crossed your arms when you had won this argument. “Fine.” He agreed with a frustrated tone at your plans. You let out a chuckle from how easy it was to win him over. “I don’t remember you being the bossy one in the group. It’s usually Dean you gotta watch out for.

“I’m a turning into demon, big boy.” You said as your lips stretched into a smirk. You blinked, letting your eyes flicker to pitch black to prove your point even more. It was a party trick you had been able to control, and sometimes, it was a bit of fun to use when the boys weren’t looking. “Manipulative and bitchy is kind of a given with these kind of things.”

“I dig it. Suits you well.” Gabriel complimented you, turning this whole conversation around. He looked over at the oldest Winchester and pointed his finger, “You’re a lucky man, Dean.”

You shook your head and rubbed your head when you blinked, watching as Gabriel vanished from your sight, doing whatever he needed to get the three of you out of here. You just hoped he was gonna he was gonna be good enough before his brother came knocking, demanding what he wanted.

\+ + +

Gabriel had one job; pull a trick on the goddess who would chew him up and spit him back out if she ever figured out what he was doing. It shouldn’t be too hard for someone like him. You and the boys had the trouble of sneaking past at least over a half dozen pagan gods and releasing their meals from their freezer. The three of you managed to get back into the kitchen without anyone noticing and got right back to where you had been before someone had rudely disrupted you. Sam quickly tried to pick the lock as the people trapped inside cried out for your help to get out of this situation before they became the next course, unlike the last guest who hadn’t been so lucky. You wondered for a second about why, out of anything a pagan gods could eat, they decided to get their nutrition out from eating humans. The thought only lasted a few moments in your head before you had encountered the same disaster as you had before. You looked over your shoulder just in time to see Dean being grabbed from behind and roughly thrown across the room and landing into a few metal shelves to break his fall.

Unlike last time, you had come prepared to defend yourself against the attacker, and you only had one to fight. But you found a bit hard to stab Zao Shen when he grabbed you by the arm that was holding the stake and tossed you like you weighed nothing. You felt yourself being thrown against the wall across the room before landing on the floor. Sam was thrown against the freezer wall as he felt a hand around his neck, squeezing the flesh until he choked. While the younger Winchester tried to fight off his attacker, he struggled as Zao Shen showed how much stronger he was compared to a measly hunter. Being lost in his own wrath, the pagan god never noticed what was about to creep up from behind him. You pushed yourself to your feet and snatched the wooden stake from the ground, and without a moment of hesitance, you shoved the piece of wood directly into his backside, pushing on it with all your weight so it did the trick.

“I do not have the patience for this crap tonight.” You grumbled underneath your breath as you stepped away from the dead body and Sam tried to catch his breath. You looked around to see if any more of Zao Chen’s friends wanted to mess with you, or if your friendly archangel had kept up his end of the deal. But the kitchen remained empty. “And where the hell is Gabriel?”

The sound of the double doors that lead into the kitchen and someone roughly grabbing you by the arm told you that the archangel had failed his duty. You and the boys were escorted back to the ballroom after being caught in the act of not only killing one of their own, but trying to release their dinner back out into the wild. You were thrown back down into a chair and given a stare to stay where you were, knowing well enough they had you cornered where they wanted you. Your face dropped down into a cold, dark glare as you crossed your arms over your chest and locked eyes with Gabriel across the room. He had found himself in the same state as you had been, his little trick had gone wrong, Kali stood over him with the least amused look on her face. It seemed the woman had figured out her past lover’s true identity long before any of you had figured it out. While she had ignored her hatred for his kind, it was Gabriel’s betrayal that had lead her to give him the dire consequences.

“How’s the rescue going?” You asked the archangel, he answered you with a grim smile before returning his gaze back over to Kali.

“Well, surprise, surprise. The trickster has tricked us.” Kali spoke to the crowd of her own to give a bit of information that might be a bit eye opening to make them realize one of them wasn’t like the others. Gabriel tried to plead for the woman to stop, the woman stared down upon him with anger. She was betrayed by him for lying about who he was, and trying free the only people that could stop this world from ending. She leaned down and placed a hand on the back of his chair before sitting herself down on the armrest, wanting to get close to him one last time. “You’re mine now. And you have something I want.” Kali’s hand now rested on his chest as she slowly glided it down, all before sneaking it inside his jacket and pulling out a very familiar object that you had seen before. The only weapon that you had known what would kill an angel for good. “An archangel’s blade. From the archangel…Gabriel.”

You bit the inside your cheek as the room remained silent, everyone processing the information very slowly, but you could see as your eyes roamed across the room, they all weren’t taking the news well. Kali pushed herself to her feet and gripped the blade with a tight grip. She stared down at the man, wondering what he had to say for himself. “Okay! Okay! So I got wings. Like Kotex.” Gabriel wasn’t dropping his usual act of humor as he admitted the truth that was now out in the open. “But that doesn’t make me any less right about Lucifer.”

“He’s lying.” Kali accused him. “He’s a spy.”

“I’m not a spy. I’m a runaway. I’m trying to save you.” Gabriel tried to explain himself to Kali, but she responded with an eye roll as she looked away from him with disgust as she kept thinking he was still lying. “I know my brother, Kali. He should scare the living crap out of you. You can’t beat him. I’ve skipped ahead—seen how this story ends.”

“Your story—not ours.” She corrected the man. “Westerners—I swear, the sheer arrogance. You think you’re the only ones on earth? You pillage and you butcher in your God’s name. But you’re not the only religion. And he’s not the only god. And now you think you can just rip the planet apart? You’re wrong. There are billions of us. And we were here first. If anyone gets to end this world…” Kali’s speech was moving and full of a type of vulnerability that had shown how much she was being affected by this apocalypse, too. And she wasn’t going to lie down and take it. Stepping forward, she gave the angel a sympathetic stare for a moment as she placed her hand upon his cheek in a moment of affection. But her voice grew harder when she spoke her final words to him, showing what her true plans were. “It’s me.”

Kali’s true intentions for the Gabriel were about to become clear. She was now leaning over the angel. Her emotions were now out in the open, but she wasn’t going to give anyone a chance to dissect them. The woman’s moment of vulnerability shouldn’t have been a sign of weakness. She might have been all hands, but in the artwork that depicted her, most of them carried the severed heads of men. And Gabriel was about to be one of her next victims. However, due to their past relationship, she stared down upon him with an expression that was a mixture of all sorts of different emotions. Anger, betrayal…sadness for what she had to do. She whispered her final apology to the angel, all before she shoved the blade she’d been holding straight into his chest, catching everyone off guard for her consequences she delivered to the angel.

You had tried on several different occasions to try and kill Gabriel, aka.—the trickster. It had ended in failure every single time because you had thought he was either pulling another stunt like the first time, or he was some other creature you didn’t know about, until recently. You had figured out who he really was when he trapped you and the boys in TV land, shifting you from one set to another, trying to make the three of you realize there was no way out of this gig. A few months later, he had come out of the blue, doing a complete opposite of what you would have expected out of him. All though his intentions were still to keep this show on the road, you knew it was all over when you looked at the his lifeless body sitting in the chair. Part of you was a bit saddened at how he went out. His was your only chance of getting out of this situation, and look and how it ended up. Another one bites the dust. And you had sudden realization from what you had just seen unfold.

Lucifer wasn’t lying about there being a way to stop him. You always thought there was a way to take him down, and that was by throwing him back in the cage…something that didn’t involve death. That was the last step you wanted this to come to. You knew it had consequences that went both ways. Back when you and the boys got your hands on the colt and used it on the Devil, it had worked, only not in the way any of you had expected. Lucifer had fell to the ground with a bullet in his head, only a matter of seconds later, you had found the same consequences brought on to you. If Lucifer had gotten a blade to the chest for good, who was to say you would be free from whatever sort of bond he had on you? You nervously swallowed at the small idea that you hadn’t thought much about, until now.

“This is crazy.” Mercury muttered underneath his breath at what had unfolded right in front of his very eyes.

“They can die.” Kali informed the crowd. “We can take down Lucifer.”

“All right, you primitive screwheads. Listen up.” Dean had enough of this crowd pushing and shoving him around however they pleased, and he sure wasn’t going to sit around and let them bring on a monster like the Devil when all of them clearly had no idea what they were taking on. He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up to the crowd. You and Sam quickly looked over at one another from what was happening, both of you were overcome with worry from what the older Winchester was about to do. He might be, but this was the old man, his leadership of taking control of a situation before it could get any worse. And he was out of options, too. “Now, on any other given day, I’d be doing my damnedest to, uh, kill you, you filthy, murdering chimps.”

Dean chuckled at how the insult seemed to have rolled out of his mouth, but nobody seemed to have been amused. He began walking away from the table and to the small bar area as he continued on talking, casually passing by the dead archangel to fix himself a drink. “But, uh, hey, desperate times. So even though I’d love nothing better than to slit your throats, you…dicks…” You rubbed your hands with your face at how Dean was approaching this situation as he turned himself around so his back was now facing the crowd of people. His confidence faltered for just a second as he grabbed the glass bottle that was filled with whiskey and poured himself a glass for a bit of liquid confidence before continuing. “I’m gonna help you. I’m gonna help you ice the Devil. And then we can all get back to ganking each other, like normal. You want Lucifer? Well, dude’s not in the yellow pages. But me, Sam and Y/N, we can get him here.”

Kali narrowed her eyes on the man, “How?”

“First, you let those main courses go. Then we talk. We can either take on the Devil together or you lame-ass bitches can eat me.” Dean said, giving them a deal with some wording that they wouldn’t mind to keep. You let out a frustrated sigh as Sam rolled his eyes from how his brother was acting. Dean slowly lifted his drink to his lips and quietly muttered, “Literally.” 

\+ + +

They held up to their side of the bargain. After a few rough attempts at trying to get the hostages out of the freezer, Sam finally got the lock undone and you help guide the frantic people to safety. You ordered them to run for their lives and get the hell out of here. You watched from the front door as the crowd began to thin out, everyone jumping into their cars while others disappeared from your sight. You walked into the parking lot and stopped at the Impala, you placed your hands on your hips and stared at the sight for a moment or so longer, that was, until your attention was pulled away when a voice came out of nowhere.

“Psst! Y/N!” You furrowed your brow and looked over at the Impala when you realized the voice was coming from over there. The backseat window was opened up slightly, but you knew that it was pouring out when you had gotten here, you wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of leaving it down. You knew who the real culprit was when he peeked his out from the crack. “Don’t look at me! Act natural. Get in.”

“What in the actual hell?” You whispered to yourself. You narrowed your eyes and took a step forward, wondering who it was, only your face dropped at who you noticed from the neon florescent lights coming from the sign. It was Gabriel. You threw your hands up in the air from how this night was coming out and rolled your eyes in frustration, but you listened to his command. You walked over to the Impala and slid yourself into the front seat, wondering if this archangel had answers to your questions. “There is nothing natural about this freaking situation. I thought you were dead.”

“You think I’d give Kali my real sword?” Gabriel asked. His lips stretched into a smug smirk at his little trick that he managed to pull over on all of you. “That thing can kill me.”

“Oh my God. I hate you.” You grumbled at him. “Then what do they have in there?”

“A fake. Made it out of a can of diet orange slice.” Gabriel said. You furrowed your brow in slight confusion, wondering how he had managed to do that. But the archangel wasn’t here to discuss his little nifty crafts from what he mentioned. “So, uh, go snag our blood, would ya?”

“What?” You asked. “How?”

“Kali might want to kill you, but she likes you. You have the same personality. Strong women gotta stick together. You can get close and pull a fast one on her.“ Gabriel said, acting as if it were going to be that easy. "Lift the plasma, then we vamoose.”

“No.”

“What did you just say?”

“You didn’t help me. I won’t help you.”

You had asked help from Gabriel. And he told you no. Back when you had ran off to do your own thing, made a few deals with both sides, you decided it wouldn’t hurt to see if an old enemy shared the same feelings as he did when you gotten a bit of information. Gabriel might have spent most of his energy trying to make sure the three of you played your roles like he wanted, you had switched everything around. Sam wasn’t playing Lucifer anymore and Dean was kicked out of his role that he wanted to badly to say yes to. You had gotten one key piece of information that you thought would be leverage and a promise that you thought he would want.

If there was no apocalypse, if he just gave you a bit of information, he didn’t have to choose a side…he didn’t have to let the party to end. You made your final deal, and that was with him. You asked Gabriel the way to stop Lucifer once and for all. In return for his help, he could continue on playing his role of the trickster, going after bastards who very well deserved it. The Winchesters would never harm him again. You honestly thought he would take the bait, but he didn’t. Gabriel laughed at you for what you were trying to do.

First off, he pointed out about how many times you had tried to kill him. And why would he give out such a piece of information that might not even exist? You weren’t dumb, you knew everyone had a weakness, including his brother. And Lucifer had said he would never lie to die. He didn’t for everything else, and why break that bond? But your bad blood between one another wasn’t just the reason why he refused to help you. It was because what you had done, sacrificing yourself for the greater good, was what Katerina did. Everything always came back around to her. She tried to find a way to help Michael and Lucifer by going to their brother.

Katerina had went to Gabriel in attempt at trying to find a way to stop the hatred that was growing between the brothers. She was the woman that both of his brothers loved, but in the end, she drove herself to a point of no return. He was to late to help her.

Gabriel loved Katerina like she was family, she was sweet and a lot like you. While the angel had admitted that he wanted to help, he couldn’t. He knew it would be wrong to step into something he couldn’t fight for. He knew in time you would give yourself to Lucifer like Katerina gave herself to Lucifer as an attempt to satisfy his need for companionship that their father didn’t give him, but it wasn’t enough. Gabriel knew you had given yourself to Lucifer, just like Katerina did. While it might have been for different purposes, he knew it would end up the same way. All of you would follow down the same path to the bloody fight that would only give one winner. And he refused to help sway the board for your own personal feelings.

“You gotta let it go, princess. I wasn’t gonna help you from the start.” Gabriel said, letting out a chuckle while he shook his head at your attitude that was still being kept on the past. “And you found out there is a way to kill my brother. I’m not useful to you anymore.”

“Fine. Hand over the real blade.” You reached out your arm so it was now resting on the seat, you waved your hand at him. Gabriel stared at you with surprise, slowly realizing you were going to keep to this plan. “Better yet, why don’t you grow a pair and help us take down Lucifer?”

“You can’t be serious.” Gabriel muttered. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing you didn’t have many options left. “Since when are you butt-buddied with a bunch of monsters? And you do realize, if you do stick it to my brother, you’re gonna draw the short end of the stick. You’re gonna die, too. There’s no coming back from this dirt nap. You didn’t forget that, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. So, what? I’m not a stranger to death. And Kali was right back there. There are billions of people in this world. And it’s sure as hell better than turning into a demon. Unless…” You looked over at the archangel. “You got some big trick up your sleeve that can stop it and I won’t drop dead when we kill Lucifer.“

“Good luck with your genius plan, Y/N. And…everything else. Me, I’m blowing Jonestown.” He said. You narrowed your eyes from how he was skipping things before it could get worse. The angel didn’t like confrontation. “Those lemmings want to run off a cliff, that’s their business.”

“I see right through you. You know that? This smart-ass shell, the whole ‘I could give a crap’ thing. Believe me, I’ve seen it up close. And it takes one to know one.” You said. Gabriel gave you a smug little smirk, wondering what story was behind there, but you would let that be told for another day. “And maybe those freaks in there aren’t you’re blood, but they are your family.”

“They just stabbed me in the friggin’ heart!”

“Boo hoo, princess! Suck it up! Dean tortured me and Sam pumped me full of freaking demon blood. But, deep down, you still give a crap about them, don’t you?” You asked him. Gabriel fell silent for a moment at your question, and while he attempted to speak his side, you cut him off. Now, you maybe right. I might end up giving myself to Lucifer without a struggle one day. Hell, sometimes, I want to. Do you know how much I want to just give in? But I don’t. Those boys are the reason why I keep fighting. And they’re the reason why I’m gonna suck it up and face the consequences. Because it’s the right thing to do. Now, if you don’t help us, everyone is gonna die in there. And do you want that?”

Gabriel looked down at the ground for a moment, “I can’t kill my brother.”

“‘Can’t’ or ‘won’t’?” You wondered, waiting to hear his answer for a few seconds. But when he remained silent, you scoffed and reached to open up the front door. Before you did, you stopped yourself and said one more. “You know why I came to you for help? it was because you were my last hope. I knew we fought like cats and dogs, but you weren’t like your brothers, you were better…fun. I thought you gave a damn about this world. Turns out, I was wrong. You’re as spineless and brainwashed like your brothers. You let me down like you let Katerina down. If you really loved her like family, you won’t let this world burn to a crisp.”

You slipped yourself out from the Impala and slammed the door shut, not giving Gabriel a chance to explain himself. You didn’t want to hear any sort of excuse from anymore, not anymore. Heading back into the hotel, you followed down the same path as you came before heading back inside the ballroom, while you were a little bit defeated, you weren’t going to end this night on a complete failure. Enemies can turn into friends. All of you were here to stop Lucifer, and that’s what you were about to do.

“Show’s over, everybody.” You announced it to the brothers, Kali and Balder. “Sword’s a fake. And Gabriel—he’s still kicking. I hate to break it to you, sister, but you’ve been tricked. But don’t feel too bad. The bastard’s done it to be God knows how many times.”

"Great.” Dean hissed underneath his breath. “Now what do we do?”

Unless Gabriel changed his mind and he was about to walk through those double doors with a change of heart, all of you were screwed. You began wondering how much more time you had on your hands before Lucifer came knocking, as not so politely asking what he thought was his. You crossed your arms over your chest and began slowly walking around the room, wondering what kind of plan would suddenly pop into your head, and solve this problem. As you walked until your back was turned to everyone, you could feel a headache beginning to form. You brushed it off as the stress of the events that never went your way. Slowly, it was beginning to become progressively worse. You stopped for a moment and shut your eyes while you cradled your head, hoping it would go away. but it only got worse. You could feel the pounding begin like a drum, hitting the base of your skull over and over again. And it was only the beginning.

You could feel yourself becoming overwhelmed with a sense of dizziness, catching you off guard as you nearly stumbled into the table. You managed to catch yourself before you could go flying down like an idiot, but your little fainting spell didn’t go unnoticed. You heard Dean call out your name as he helped you get back to your feet. He asked if you were all right, but he seemed to have vanished from your thoughts, as did everything else around you. Your breathing became heavier as your shaking hand slowly reached to underneath your nose, feeling the same trickle substance ooze out. You looked down at your fingers to see they were covered in blood. And the flickering lights that started to act out wasn’t a good sign either when you looked up.

“It’s him.” You whispered in the quietest tone. “He’s here.”

“How?” Kali asked, wondering how you would know such a thing.

“Lucifer never liked to cut the umbilical cord. Does it really matter?” Dean questioned the woman with a frustrated tone. He knew from your little pronoun game that Lucifer was in the building, prowling around the place, and sniffing you out. “Shazam us out of here, would you?”

“We can’t.” Balder told the oldest Winchester.

You could hear footsteps across the wooden floors, the measly little pagan god approached the open double doors to greet his unwanted guest. There he stood in all of his decaying glory, the Devil himself. “Of course you can’t. You didn’t say ‘Mother, may I’?” Lucifer said. His lips stretched into a smirk at the sight of the little crowd that was waiting for him. His attention turned to seeing you, with your back turned, and cradled into the arms of Dean. “Oh honey, I’m home!”

Ever so slowly, you looked over your shoulder to greet the Devil himself. The boys turned to look over at you. Blinking once, they gotten the gruesome sight of you staring at Lucifer with a pair of inky black eyes that were up to no good, and a cold, dark stare to greet the angel. But your expression changed by how your lips stretched into a smirk, like you were happy to see him once again. “Thought you’d never come.”

\+ + +

He found you…The bloody Devil found you.

Months of playing cat and mouse had lead up to this exact moment. Now, on any other occasion, the mere thought of having to live through this situation would have sent a shiver straight up your spine and terrified of what he was going to do just to get his hands on you. His presence was a nightmare that not even you had thought of. The Devil stood in the doorway with a cocky little smirk on his lips. His face and hands were covered in thin blood splatter of the creatures he’d ripped to shreds with his bare hands just to get himself here. He always told you nothing would get in his way. And a measly little pagan would stop him. After all the head games he pulled on you, the taunts that he filled your head with, this very moment would have made the you shake in your shoes in fear. But you didn’t. This was the first time seeing him again after being brought back from the dead. And it seemed tonight was the night.

His presence had pulled something out of you with such ease. You had tried so hard to fight it, but just like that, months of your hard work had vanished. You could feel that little voice winning.

Nobody ever talked about this. It was like Bobby’s legs and Cas being cut off from Heaven. It was too hard to talk about. Everyone went on by with life and continued on to fight. They always thought you wouldn’t change. How the hell could you? Demons were turned into monsters by centuries of torture and pain until their soul was black as their eyes. If anyone could beat the Devil’s curse, it was you. You were the one that was the most level headed, stubborn person out there. You weren’t made of sugar, spice and everything nice…But you didn’t do what people wanted of you. You always defined people’s expectations. And you sure weren’t going to let the monster on your head win. At least, that’s what they had been telling themselves all this time.

The Winchesters watched as your eye color changed in the blink of an eye, into something that horrified them. It wasn’t the kind of disturbance that made them want to kill you. It was that soul crushing, stomach dropping sight that made them feel like the worst was about to begin. It made them realize the threats they had been hearing for what felt like years now were coming true. Maybe it was selfish of them to focus on the bigger problems they had and ignoring the ones going on in your head. You never talked about, you always pretended like you were fine. Even when the worst of it came after you had died and came back, you told them there was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t that bad. But they realized it was. It was the beginning of the end.

Sam whispered your name in a fearful tone, wondering to himself if you had turned just like that. How the hell was that even possible, he didn’t know. The man didn’t want to know how hard it was for you. Dean absentmindedly stared at you…his head swimming with anxiety as he found himself going back to the memories of the woman he had seen five years into the future. Had the brothers been too caught up in their own selfish thoughts all these years, from the demon blood and the pity on themselves, they forgot about the things you were going through yourself? Were they too late? The brothers slowly looked away from you and to each other. Both of them began wondering if the woman standing in front of them, after all these years of fighting tooth and nail, was gone for good. Were you replaced with the monster you were supposed to come?

Your foot moved one in front of the other as you began walking straight in the arms out of Satan himself when he simply told you to come, like some kind of obedient little pet. The boys expected you to have responded with a scoff and an eye roll. Anyone telling you to do something that you weren’t comfortable with would have been met with backlash. But there you went. It was as if all the months of keeping yourself hidden and admitting about how scared you were had vanished when your eyes changed to a black, soulless color. You were about to throw yourself at the enemy. Dean managed to get himself out of his own thoughts and snatch you by the arm, pulling you to close to him, ignoring every single jab and punch you tried to force upon him. You might have been turning, but you didn’t have any of the fancy little powers demons had just yet.

“You had your fun, Dean. But I told you once. Must I tell you again?” Lucifer extended put his arm and waited for you to come forward. But the oldest Winchester wouldn’t allow it. He kept you in the tightest embrace he could hold you in, and much as you clawed and pushed, the man wouldn’t let you go. Not now, not ever. The Devil let out a sigh and gave the man a rather annoyed glare. “It’s my turn. Y/N made her choice. She’s mine.”

“She’s nobodies to keep, you son of a bitch.” Dean hissed at the Devil. He wrapped his hands tighter around your waist and hoped somehow, deep down in that head of yours, you would snap out of this. But of that wasn’t enough, Dean wouldn’t let you do this. He looked at Lucifer straight in the eye. He showed the Devil that he wasn’t scared, not anymore. There was no way he was letting one grubby finger on you or his little brother, that was for sure. “Why don’t you go crawl back out of whatever hole you came out of?”

“I will.” Lucifer promised him. You could hear his tone becoming harder and more quieter, his facial expression becoming more colder. He was trying his hardest to be calm, but his patience was running thin. “Just give me what I want. And for a sign of good faith, perhaps I’ll take pity on the both of you and make it quick and easy for your little friends. Can’t say I gave them the same treatment with the others.”

The brothers knew they were no match for something like Lucifer without that blade to take him down once and for all. They began to back away slowly so they were at least some kind of safe distance away from the fight that was about to begin. While the outcome was looking bleak, Balder was feeling a bit confident he could take on the Devil himself, despite the warning Kali had given him to stay back.

“You think you own the planet?” Balder wondered as he spoke with a bit of a bite in his tone. Satan looked at the little pagan god with a tad of a smirk on his lips. He’d let him bark a few times and try to be the big hero in front of all of you. You watched as the man approached Lucifer with confidence in his step, like he was about to attack. “What gives you the right?!”

You could feel yourself letting out a gasp of shock as your hands wrapped tightly around Dean’s forearms, not out of a fighting reaction, but from the horrendous sight that you had seen. And, just like that, you could feel yourself being pulled back into reality as your eye color shifted back into normal. You stepped back and hitting the back of Dean’s chest as you began shaking in fear, your eyes never leaving the sight of Lucifer’s bloody arm peeking out from Balder’s chest. One swift move, and he punched clean through the man’s ribcage and through his body. 

Suddenly you realized what has just happened. You lost control for a moment, your head was filled with different form of yourself that you had never felt quite before, and while it felt good…you knew it was wrong. Lucifer stood with his arm straight through Balder’s chest. It took the sight of him standing there with a casual tone to make you figure out what disastrous situation you were about to put yourself through. But he didn’t win. You would never let him.

“No one gives us the right.” Lucifer whispered to the man. He looked over at you. “We take it.” 

Kali decided that enough was enough. She wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore by the Devil, she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for someone to save her. No, the woman was much too powerful for that. You looked to see that she was a pagan god bringing much more to the table than anyone else had. You looked over to see she has challenged all her fury into something you’d never seen before. Her arms became engulfed with flames and got ready to burn the Devil to a crisp. You and the boys quickly jumped for cover behind an overturned table as Kali threw the flames at Lucifer, engulfing his body. But she should have known better than to fight the Devil with fire. He was cast down the fiery pits of hell, this was more of a tickle than a burn. 

As the fire began to slowly dissipate, you slowly looked over the table out of curiosity to see how the fight was going, but your eyes widened in horror to see that Lucifer emerged without a single mark on his body. You quickly felt yourself being pulled back down before you could get yourself pulled back to where you were before. Dean gave you a look as Sam scoffed for how close you were trying to cut it here.

“Stay put.” Sam ordered at you as the three of you ducked even lower. He had a feeling from the sound of a body hitting the floor that it wasn’t Lucifer. If this were any other time, you would have scolded him from his tone of voice. But you nodded your head in agreement as you let out a shaky breath at what was going on here. He turned his head to look down at you with a bit of worry. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” It wasn’t you who answered the younger Winchester’s question. You and the boys looked over to see a familiar face crouched down at your level. A small smile began to spread across your lips at who you saw, it was Gabriel. “Better late than never, huh?”

“Looks like you finally grew a pair, huh?” You said with a bit of humor in your tone.

“Only for you, sugar.” Gabriel remarked, giving you a wink. It seemed that your talk to him have drove some sense into him. Gabriel was about ready to throw himself into the fight with his brother, but before he did, you watched as he pulled out what appeared to be a DVD case from his backside and roughly slammed it against Dean’s chest. “Guard this with your life.”

You were about to ask him what it was, but before you could, Gabriel pushed himself to his feet and intervene before it could get bloody. Lucifer stood above Kali, who was lying on her back, and about to have her head smashed it, but she was saved before meeting her bloody end. The Devil found himself being thrown across the floor, and into the double doors before he felt his backside hit the wall to break his fall. You and the boys peeked out from behind the table as Lucifer started to regain himself from the shove. From the look on his face, he was pissed. But the person standing in front of him wasn’t who he had ever expected to see again.

“Lucy, I’m home.” Gabriel greeted his little brother. Lucifer wasn’t afraid of his own blood waving around a little sword that could kill him. He had unfinished business with Kali, but as he approached the woman, Gabriel stopped his brother, telling him not this time. Lucifer wasn’t going to go stomping around and destroying things that weren’t his and breaking all sorts toys. With the blade pointed at him, Gabriel bent down and picked up Kali, making sure she safe so she could get safe passage through. "Guys! Get Kali and Y/N out of here.”

You didn’t waste a single second pushing yourself to your feet and heading over to Kali’s rescue. Despite the words that you exchanged with her earlier, Kali had tried to save your lives just a few moments ago, you knew it was the right thing to return the favor. You followed behind as the boys helped Kali to the hallway, as you were quick on their heels, you flinched at hearing his voice, for a second, you stopped in your tracks and stood with your back turned to him.

"Don’t you dare walk out that door, Y/N.” Lucifer warned you. While his tone was soft and calm, you could feel the same chilling threats he had whispered in your head while you slept. You inhaled a deep breath, trying your hardest not to do something you would regret. Lashout, listen to him. Your emotions were becoming a bit blurry about what the right thing to do was. All you knew was that you were sick and tired of people telling you what to do. “We made a deal. It’s time to face the music.”

“You know what? Listen to this. Screw you, bastard.” You turned around to stare at the Devil himself, the creature that was responsible for creating you. You were the reason for him to walk on this earth once more, his rebellion against God and humans. You shook your head, your lips stretching into a smile from what you were about to say. It’s been something you wanted to get off your chest after keeping it bottled up for so long. “My entire life I did what people told me to do. Be quiet, be smart. Don’t do this, do that. ‘You’re not a good person.’ 'You’re a mutt.’ So what if I am? What if I made a deal with you? You gonna turn me into a demon? Bring it on. I refuse to bow down to some vile like you. You don’t own me. I’m not your damn property. I’m a free woman, you son of a bitch. And I better be a dead woman walking, too. Because you’re not gonna like what comes after you if you live past tonight.”

Lucifer’s listened to every word you had spoke in that little speech of yours. You let out a quiet breath and stood with your head held up high. For the first time in forever, you felt in control of your emotions, you weren’t going to let someone tell you what to do anymore or push you into a submissive role. That wasn’t you. But the Devil found it…charming. His fingers intertwined and placed them against his mouth, almost like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. He pretended to be sentimental at how strong you were trying to present yourself. You furrowed your brow in confusion and looked at him with a glare, wondering what was so funny.

"Run along now, Y/N. The grownups have important things to discuss. For starters, slumming it with the pagans. All this fuss. Over a girl? I hope you didn’t catch anything.” Lucifer said, making some passive jab at his brother. His face scrunched as he looked at the other angel with a bit of a funny look. Your eyes narrowed when he looked over at you. “But the crazy things we do for love, I suppose. I’ll see you very soon, Y/N.”

You slowly looked over at Gabriel and swallowed, wondering if he was going to be able to take on his brother by himself. But he seemed confident enough. You could see his facial expression soften when he realized again that you might not survive very much longer. But you were okay with that. You’d made piece with the fact a very long time ago. It was like Kali had said; there were billions of people on this planet, you were going to sit back and watch half of them burn because you were selfish. That’s what the demon side of you would have wanted to see, nothing but chaos and pain. Sacrifice one for the greater good. You inhaled a deep breath and began to turn back, hoping Gabriel would end this once and for all. But you had a feeling, something deep in the pit of your stomach, that once you stepped out the hotel doors, it wasn’t going to end well. And it was going to be the last time you would ever see Gabriel again…at least, in the flesh. He always had one trick up his sleeve.

\+ + +

“Lucky number thirteen. Let’s see what kind of trick you got for us, Gabriel.”

It’d been a little over twenty-four hours since you and the boys had left the hotel from Hell and parting ways with Kali after you made sure she was safe. You knew for a fact that things didn’t go well from the fact that you were still breathing. But you were still hopeful that this wasn’t a complete failure. Something important was disclosed in this DVD case of "Casa Erotica #13” that Gabriel had given to the oldest Winchester. Looks like you and the boys were going to have a movie night off the highway. You positioned the laptop on the hood of the Impala and popped open the disk player to place in the DVD. After pushing a few buttons and the screen turned from black to red, you furrowed your brow in confusion to see the rolling credits was a consent form to say everyone who was acting in this film was of age. And if that wasn’t enough to realize what you were about to watch, the cheesy music porno with the title coming up on the screen in pink lettering was a dead giveaway for what you were about to watch.

The screen faded to a young woman lying backside on her bed with her legs kicked in the air, showing off her clear, stripper heels that paired so well with her black lingerie. You scoffed and looked away, wondering why Gabriel wanted you to be watching a porno. Much as you wanted to turn it off, you crossed your arms over your chest and continued on watching, hoping the plot was decent enough to keep your attention. The woman’s own personal thoughts narrated through a shot of the camera panning from her feet to her face, where she casually read through a magazine with not so much interest. It seemed her mind was on more important things.

“Dear, Diary. Being a high-powered business president is super-fun but so exhausting. Sometimes I just need to relax. I need…Casa Erotica.”

“Gabriel wanted you to guard this with your life?” Sam asked, reaching out to stop the video for a second as he looked over at his brother. You let out a quiet laugh, still wondering if this was some kind of joke he was playing on all of you.

“Maybe he’s a fan.” Dean guessed. “It is a good one.”

You would soon realize in a few moments as Sam resumed the video of how much Gabriel really was. There was a knock on the door just a few seconds later, announcing room service. You rolled your eyes at how cliched this porno was coming along as the door swung open after the woman called for him to enter. As your gaze focused back on the screen, you suddenly found yourself like a small child, you could feel a stupid grin spreading across your face as you let out a soft chuckle from seeing who entered the room. It was Gabriel; hair slicked back, fake mustache and a ridiculous outfit to serve the young woman her food.

“I’ve got the kielbasa you ordered.” Gabriel delivered his first line with a thick accent, not missing a beat for his special time on screen.

“Mmm. Polish?”

“Hungarian.”

Gabriel threw the tray that he was carrying to the fireplace that he was standing next to you and threw himself at the young woman, getting himself lost straight into the antics of making out. You quickly looked away as your face scrunched up in disgust. You really didn’t want to see Gabriel grope a woman. As you were about to tell Sam to turn off the video, a voice made you quickly look back at the screen.

“Don’t be such a prude, Y/N.” Gabriel wasn’t making out with the girl anymore, but he was now staring straight ahead in the video, and directly on you. He greeted you and the boys with a formal hello, but you had a feeling this was about to take yet another strange turn. But for the better. “You’re probably wondering what the hell’s going on. Well…if you’re watching this…I’m dead.” All though you didn’t like him all that much, you could feel your heartbeat stop for a moment when you realized that he didn’t make it out alive. Gabriel, however, didn’t want any of you feeling all that bad about it. “Oh, please! Don’t be yourself up, sugar. There was nothing you could have done about it. And boys stop sobbing. It’s embarrassing for all of us. Without me, you’ve got zero shot at killing Lucifer. Sorry. You’re not that clever, Y/N. But…you get everything you want. No death required.”

Gabriel walked around so that he was sitting at the edge of the bed and his lady friend continued on reading her magazine. ” You can trap him. The cage you sprung Lucifer from is still down there. And maybe—just maybe—you can shove his ass back in. Not that it’ll be easy. You got to get the cage open, trick my bro back into it, and—uh, oh, yeah—avoid Michael and the God squad. But hey, details, right?” That son of a bitch. You slowly looked up at the boys, a small smirk spreading across your lips at what he was telling you. “And here’s the big secret. Lucifer himself doesn’t even know. But the key to the cage—it’s out there. Actually, it’s keys—plural. Four keys. Well, four rings. From the horsemen. You get them all, you got the cage. Can’t say I’m betting on you guys, but, uh, hey, I’ve been wrong before.”

You and the boys didn’t have a lot of time, but things were slowly coming together. You had a way to stop the Devil, this might actually end in a happy ever after. But that only solved one problem. You still had another one to figure out. “You didn’t think I forgot about you, Y/N. And that dark little soul of yours. You might have been a pain in my ass, but you were right. I was afraid to stand up to my brother. Not anymore. This is me giving him the finger. I know a way to get you back to normal…ish.”

You could feel your eyes grow in surprise as you listened to what he had to say. “We all know there’s a way to turn a demon back into a human, but not even I could figure out that answer. I have the second best thing. If you and the boys manage to throw Lucifer back in the cage, you won’t completely turn. At least, I don’t think. He needs to get his hands on you to get you exactly how he wants. Trust me, it ain’t gonna be pretty. But if he gets thrown in, all of his hard work might vanish. And you could return back to your old self. All though, I might be wrong.” Gabriel admitted. “If not, go for plan B. It involves some pretty heavy enonican magic and some grace. And before you ask me how the hell are you gonna get your hands on some angel grace, are you stupid? I’m dead! There’s got to be some out there. You’re a curious fellow, Y/N. You’ll find it. And your friend Cas can help explain more about what the hell I’m talking about. Now, if you excuse me…I’ve got some important meetings to attend to.”

Gabriel decided that his final goodbyes would be wrapped up with some useful information to help guide the three of you on your way. You watched as the video continued on, rolling into an actual porno when the young lady tossed off her bra and the both of them got back to enjoying one another’s company. Sam luckily managed to shut the laptop before any of you could see something that might scar you. You shuddered and looked away from the laptop, the information slowly processing itself in your head. Gabriel, the trickster, was dead. And he told you how to stop the Devil. You looked up at the boys to see what their reaction was going to be.

“Horsemen, huh? Well, we got War’s. We nicked Famine’s. That’s two rings down. Collect all four.” Dean said. He seemed confident that the three of you could take down the other two horsemen without a problem. You did before, he wanted to see if you could go another few rounds to get the grand prize. “Just need pestilence and death.”

“Oh, is that all?” You asked him.

“It’s a plan. Best one we got in a while.” Dean said. “Things are finally looking up, guys.”

As the boys drifted off into a conversation that turned into a plan about how you could find pestilence, you found yourself staring at the reflection in the backseat of the Impala. There was a way to save you from becoming even worse than how you were. You heard the sound of the brothers getting themselves lost in conversation as each of them seemed hopeful. You tilted your head to the side and watched as your eye color changed again, back to black. What if if you didn’t want to be saved? What if you were starting to grow a…liking to the disease?

You wanted to feel like how you had in the hotel, even if it was just for a split second, it was the most level headed you had felt in a long time. You wanted to be in control of your emotions and have a clear head. You wanted to feel powerful again.

You watched as your eyes flickered back to normal again when Dean broke you of your concentration. He gave you a warm smile, the kind that was filled with so much hope, so much happiness that he hadn’t felt himself in a long time. You returned the smile as you reached out a hand to open up the backseat door and slid yourself inside. The three of you headed down the highway with the biggest lead that you had in a long time. You might actually have a chance at stopping the Devil and going back to normal. Your smile began to slowly fade as your gaze watched the scenery pass you by. You began to quietly wonder why you were dreading this plan.


	20. The Devil You Know.

“They will be wasted by famine, and consumed by plague And bitter destruction; And the teeth of beasts I will send upon them, With the venom of crawling things of the dust.” — Deuteronomy 32:24 

Each horsemen that you had faced put some sort of spell on the people that he’d crossed paths with. For War it was destroying a small town from the inside out, creating chaos and madness that would have ended with everyone slaughtering one another after he tricked all of them into thinking all of the townspeople were demons. Famine had turned one’s personal hunger for something and made them rabid for it, not getting enough until they were dead. Some it might have been food or drugs, for the very few it was sex. For you, it was violence that your other half craved. Sam the demon blood running through your veins. Cas, in a very weird twist of events, had found himself craving meat, to the point he ended up eating raw hamburger to try and crave his never ending hunger. Pestilence was next on the list. The horsemen that would bring infectious disease to the human population.

You thought you would be dealing with early signs of the croatoan virus at this point. And even if he was feeling like he didn’t want to drop that big of a bomb just yet, there were so many other kinds of diseases that were far infections and highly lethal if he wanted to have a bit of fun. All of you could have been dealing with small pox, influenza, or even the black death that had wiped out half the world’s population back in the dark ages. But it seemed Pestilence wanted to start off nice and slow. You and the boys have spent days traveling the western part of the country going through hospitals and following the trail of the outbreak that had filled waiting rooms with runny noses and people hacking their lungs out into crumbled tissues. Doctors were calling it swine flu. You adjusted the disposable surgical face masks and followed behind the brothers down the hospital hallway as they were lead by the doctor who was trying to speak to you while do her rounds as well.

“Check it out—I look like the King of Pop.” Dean tried to be funny as he looked over at you and his brother when he pointed at his own mask. You gave him a look for his tasteless joke as his brother rolled his eyes from how childish he could be. “Too soon? Too soon.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad the CDC is here, but what we really need is vaccine.” The doctor lead the three of you to the waiting room where you were greeted with the sight of sickly people that took most of the chairs. Your nose wrinkled slightly at how all of them were coughing and sneezing, looking like death from how this flu was taking a toll on them.

“Well, tell me, have you noticed anything unusual about the strain—any signs of behavioral change. Like aggression, maybe?” Sam asked the woman, going through the same questions you had asked the dozen other doctors you had seen over the past week. You had gotten part of your answer from how her brow furrowed at the younger Winchester’s strange question.

“Have the flu victims shown any signs of homicidal tendencies?” You wondered.

“Uh…” The doctor awkwardly chuckled at your set of questions and gave you the rundown of what she had been seeing herself. “Symptomatically speaking, we’re looking at a mild case of swine flu here. Probably add up to a miserable week off work, and that’s about it.”

“So nothing unusual.” Dean said, baiting her for more information.

“Hmm. Day and a half ago, we didn’t have a single case. Now we’re looking at over seventy—the infectious equivalent of a briefcase bomb.” The doctor explained to all of you. She turned her gaze away from the three of you when a colleague of hers came over with a clipboard and a pen, needing her signature on some important document. “So, yeah, I might call that a little unusual.”

“Day and a half?” Sam quietly repeated the woman’s words as he looked over at you and his brother. You shrugged your shoulders, seeming to believe there was a connection going on.

“That’s the same time those statues started crying.” Dean whispered.

“I’m sorry. What was that?” The doctor was caught off guard from what she had heard the older Winchester say. Dean pretended he didn’t know what the woman was talking about. She looked at all of you with suspicion. “Did you just say a bunch of statues started crying?”

“What? Why, no. W-Who would—”

“Who would say that, huh? Crazy people.”

You rolled your eyes from the brothers’ attempt at trying to smooth things over from what they accidentally let slip out into the open as they became a bunch of babbling buffoons. You kept your lips pressed together as each of them slowly fell silent, hoping the doctor would let it slide. Her eyes moved back and forth slowly, while she was still a bit puzzled at what they had said, her mind was more occupied about her patients well being.

“Just…get us some vaccine.” She said, leaving the conversation at that.

\+ + +

The one thing you hated most in life was being right behind the enemy, but still far off to the point where you were eating his dust after he skipped off to the next town to make fall under his little spell. War and Famine weren’t that hard. One was smack right in the middle of the chaos he caused while the other strolled in, his own hunger never being satisfied until he ate all the souls of his victims touched by his curse. Pestilence was nothing like his other brothers, he didn’t just touch down on one town. He was all over all the place. But it was crafted, like he has a strategy up his sleeve that you couldn’t figure out yet. He was meticulous about where he started and only kept going onwards, not settling for just one state but several, cashing massive wide panic with this swine flu.

You read the headline of a local newspaper of one fatality caused by the flu, an old woman weak a weak immune system, no real surprise there. While you sat in the backseat of the Impala, the boys were talking to Bobby on speaker, who didn’t seem surprised at the findings you had come back to him with when he presumed before you could even tell him.

“Let me guess—another steamin’-hot pile of swine flu.”

“This doesn’t make a lot of sense, Bobby. Pestilence touched down here. I’m sure of it.” You said. You looked up from the paper you had been reading and leaned over the front seat, giving your two cents on what you thought was going on with this situation. “I don’t know, it’s like I can feel his bad mojo whenever we get into a town that’s gotten majorly effected in just days.”

“Your demony senses tingling now, demon girl?” Dean asked you. You turned your head and gave him a deadpan stare from his joke that hadn’t been funny when you first heard it, and it sure wasn’t growing on you now. He slowly found his chuckles growing quieter when he realized you didn’t find it amusing as he did. “Why is he dealing them soft serve like swine flu when he’s got the croatoan virus up his sleeve? I don’t get it.”

“Doesn’t matter what the sick son of a bitch is doing. What matters is this is the fourth town he’s hit—That we know of—and we’re still eating his dust.” Bobby said. You rolled your eyes and sat back down in your seat, not needing to hear the same discouraging information all over again. “Did you get anything? We got even a snowball at probable next target?”

“No pattern that we can see.” Sam answered, giving more unhelpful information.

“Okay. Hold on.” The other line went silent for a moment, you could hear what sounded like the man pushing himself across the room and looking at some papers before bringing the phone back up to his ear.“ Well, far as I can tell, he’s still heading East, So… Head East, I guess.”

“East?” The brothers asked in sync. 

“Bobby, we’re in West Nevada.” You said. You looked out the window to see that you and the boys were driving on a long, empty highway with miles of empty land as your company. “East is practically all there is.”

“Yeah, well, you better get to drivin’.” Bobby said, leaving you and the boys with some much useless advice. 

You scoffed quietly underneath your breath as Sam ended the call, none of you were particularly happy with how things had been turning out lately. But there was one silver lining to this crappy situation. At least he wasn’t unleashing the croatoan virus out into the world just yet. If he did, then all of you would have been screwed. You leaned yourself against the seat and crossed your arms over your chest. The three of you let the car fall into a moment of silence as everyone got lost with their own thoughts. Neither one of you noticed an extra passenger in the car before he spoke, that familiar British accent echoed through the Impala.

“Say…I’ve got an idea.”

You nearly jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice come out of thin air and break the silence. Dean was spooked himself. He accidentally swerved the Impala as he immediately slammed his foot on the break to counteract what he’d done. The fear went swerving on the road as the tires screeched on the blacktop. Chaos had erupted, but before you realized it yourself, you swung your fist and managed to throw a punch hard enough to stun the stranger. You heard a yelp of pain before you found yourself being roughly slammed against the backseat door. You shut your eyes for a second, stunned from the dull ache that began to settle in your back from the way you had reacted from how the Impala had turned without warning.

When you opened them just a moment later, the stranger was gone, and Sam lunged the demon knife at whoever had been sitting next to you, but all he had managed to stab was the seat. You furrowed your brow and began looking around, wondering where the hell he went.

“Did you get him?” Dean asked, examining the empty highway himself to see if he could find the demon himself. 

“He’s gone.” Sam muttered with frustration. 

You were about to huff out a breath of your own sense of anger from what was going on here, but it turned into another gasp of surprise when you heard someone knocking on the backseat window. You turned your head to see it was who had suspected; Crowley, the crossroads demon that you had the displeasure of seeing for the third visit. “Fancy a fag and a chat?” The demon proposed a civil conversation with a friendly face. You, however, weren’t smiling ear to ear as you ripped open the door to slide yourself out to join the demon with the boys following behind you. You looked at the demon with a cold and dark expression as you began to walk forward to him, having every intention of punching him again. Crowley threw his hands up in the air to show you that he came in peace. “You’re upset, darling. We should discuss it. Not here, but—”

“You wanna talk?” You questioned him with a low tone. You followed behind him with a close distance as he stumbled backwards around the Impala, trying to somehow get away from you, but he was backing himself into a corner when Dean stopped right where he was heading. “After what you did to us?”

“After what I—What I did to you?!” Crowley shouted. The demon seemed rather surprised at the accusations you were throwing at him. You scoffed and only walked closer to him, getting ready to start swinging again. “I gave you the colt!”

“Yeah, and you knew it wouldn’t work against the Devil!” You argued with him.

“I never!” Crowley defended himself, offended at the accusation thrown upon him.

“You set us up.” You hissed in a venomous tone. You pointed a finger at him, daring to poke him in the chest to prove your point of how pissed you were. You were tempted at the idea of grabbing the knife from Sam to shove the blade straight into Crowley’s chest just to get the job done and over with. “We lost people on that suicide run—good people!”

“Who you take on the ride is your own business!” Crowley said, only adding fuel to the fire. Your eyes narrowed on him as your arm slowly retracted into a fist. It seemed the demon had noticed his mistake and gave you a smile, as if that was going to be enough for you change your mood around him. “Look, everything is still the same. W-We’re all still in this together.”

You pretended to agree with as your lips stretched into a friendly smile, “Sure we are.”

You tried your hardest to strike again when your arm swung up to punch the demon straight in the face to try and channel your anger to something useful. But you weren’t lucky as you had been before in the car. You only managed to swing at the air when Crowley disappeared into thin air, seeming to catch up to the little game you were playing with him. You furiously looked around, trying to figure out where he ended up. The demon reappeared a few feet away from where you had tried to strike him.

“Call your dog off—please.” Crowley almost pleaded with the brothers, not wanting to have another incident like earlier in the car when he dropped down unexpectedly .

“All right. Okay. Easy, Cujo.” Dean said. He managed to catch you by your arm and lightly drag you backwards so you couldn’t hurt the demon. You crossed your arms over your chest to show a sign of good faith. But you stared at the man with a dirty glare. “Give me one good reason.”

“I can give you pestilence.” The demon said.

You furrowed your brow, “What do you know about pestilence?”

“I know how to get him.” Crowley said. You felt your arms beginning to loosen around your waist as you began to look at the demon with a bit of curiosity, wondering what he had to offer. The demon’s lips stretched into a smile, seeming to notice that you were starting to slowly warm up to him. And Dean wasn’t too far behind from listening to what the demon was trying to sell all of you. “That’s got your interest, doesn’t it?”

“Are you guys actually listening to this?” Sam cracked a smile, seeming all too amused at what Crowley was trying to do to the three of you. He knew from experience not to trust anything a demon said. As he looked over at you and his brother, the both of you were hooked onto what the demon said. Sam let out a scoff as he was overcome with anger at what was going on here. Dean tried to defend himself, but his little brother wouldn’t hear it. “Are you freaking nuts?!”

“Shut up for a second, Sam!” Dean ordered at the other man.

“Shut up, the both of you!” Crowley yelled at the brothers, not in the mood to hear an argument. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a chuckle from what was going on here. “Look…I swear, I thought the colt would work. It’s an honest mistake. It’s all part of the learning process. But nothing’s changed. I still want the Devil dead. Well, one thing’s changed. Now the Devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation.”

“My heart breaks for you. It really does.” You pretended to be sympathetic as you placed your hand against your chest. “And do you hear that? It’s the world’s smallest violin playing for you.”

“You think this is a joke? They burned down my house! They ate my tailor!” Crowley shouted at you, as if that was supposed to make you feel bad from your sarcastic response. You ended up letting out a laugh from his sad turn of events from going up against the Devil, which only made the demon even more angry. The brothers rolled their eyes from how Crowley was admitting his problems that were very much insignificant to what you had been dealing with all these months. “Two months under a rock, like a bloody salamander! Every demon on hell and earth’s got his eyes out for me! And yet…here I am…last place I should be—in the road, talking to Y/N Y/L/N and the bloody Winchesters, under a friggin’ spotlight!”

Crowley lashed out his frustration on the street lamp that was just across the way. He lifted up his arm and made the light bulb explode in just the matter of seconds, darkening the street even more. You lifted up an eyebrow when he huffed out a breath. “You done, Napoleon?” You asked him. The demon gave you a look from what you had said, you rolled your eyes from your subtle remark meaning so much more than just his temper. “And here I thought I had anger issues.”

“Come with me. Please.” Crowley approached the conversation more with a softer tone, thinking it might help ease the tension that was starting to form around the three of you. Sam’s face only hardened as his brother showed no interest. You tilted your head to the side ever so slightly, wondering what he had to offer you. Crowley rolled his eyes from the lack of progress he was making with the three of you. "Do you want the horsemen rings or not? And before you waste anymore time, yes. I know all about them.”

What the hell? Out of any demon you could trust on earth or the fiery pits below, there was something about Crowley that seemed….in an ironic sense, trusting. He was the demon that screwed your entire life over—from the deal he had made with your mother, to the one with you trying to take Dean’s spot in hell. Every finger was pointing not to trust him. But he had given you the colt to try and take down the Devil. You began walking to the Impala when you realized the demon wanted to lead the three of you to his whereabouts. As you were about to open the door, it seemed that you had some help. it seemed that you had some help with such an easy task. You turned your head to see that Crowley was being a bit of a gentleman by opening up the door for you. Sam didn’t seem all amused when he gave the demon a dirty look.

“Manners maketh the man.“ Crowley said. Your lips stretched into a smirk from how Sam tossed the demon a dirty glare as Dean continued to roll his eyes, knowing he was doing everything that he could to suck up so you wouldn’t lose your temper with him. Out either one of them, you were Crowley’s biggest threat about getting killed if he didn’t cooperate. "Off we go then, shall we?”

\+ + +

Home, sweet home. You and the boys followed the directions Crowley had given you to some abandoned house in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere. A perfect hideout for a demon on the run. You slammed the door shut behind you and followed behind when the demon lead the way to his humble estate. What lacked in curb appeal made up for the tasteless graffiti left on the chipped painted walls when you stepped inside. You let out a low whistle when you wandered into the house, taking notice of the rundown house with its broken furniture and boarded up windows. This was very far from where you had first met Crowley in his luscious and manicured lawn with his mansion filled with priceless antiques that you had defiled. You still didn’t feel the least bit sympathetic for how his life had turned into a polar opposite of what it used to be.

“Here we are—my life on the lam. How the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace.” Crowley said, giving a quick overview about how tragic his life had turned out since your last visit. He walked over to the fireplace, and with just a flick of the arm, he set a fire to warm this place up. “The water damage alone—”

“My heart’s bleeding for you.” You cut him off, having heard enough of his pity party. You were here to discuss the important matters that he had promised, like trying to find out where pestilence was. “Now, how do you know about the rings?”

“Well, now…” Crowley said. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on you and your boys.”

‘We got hex bags.” Sam said. “We’re hidden from demons.”

“All about one,” The demon corrected the younger Winchester. He pointed to himself, you gave him a confused expression to what sort of trick he had up his sleeve. “That night you broke into my house, our first date, my valet hid a tracking device in your car—a magical coin that easily trumps your little hex bags. It allows me to hear things, too—and, my, the things I’ve heard. Sure has kept me quite entertained on these cold and lonely nights.” A chuckle fell from Crowley when he looked back and forth from you and Dean, giving the slightest hint. Your face grimaced as you looked away, rolling your eyes from the invasion of privacy that you hadn’t thought of yourself. “So you want to cram the Devil back into the box? Cunning scheme. I want in.”

“You said you could get us pestilence.” Dean said, bringing up the promise the demon made.

“Well, now…I don’t know where pestilence is, per se.” Crowley inhaled a breath as he slightly corrected himself. You watched as he began walking across the room, stopping after a few steps so his back was turned to you and the boys. “But I do know the demon who does. He’s what you might call the horsemen’s stable boy. He handles their itineraries, their personal needs. He’s who you want—believe me. He’ll tell us where Sneezy’s at.”

“Well, how do we get him to spill?” Dean asked. “Rip out his toenails?”

“No. Nuts at his pay grade don’t crack. We bring him here, then I sell him.” Crowley said. Sam looked at the demon with a bit of a funny expression, not believing a demon could lure another into making a deal. “Please. I’ve sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can’t close one little demon?”

“All right, if you’re so great and powerful at this,” You crossed your arms over your chest and asked, “Where’s this demon of yours?”

\+ + +

You cocked the shotgun back into place when you had shoved all the salt rounds you could fit into the chamber and put it into the duffel bag, making sure you were prepared for your meeting with Pestilence’s stable boy, who so happened to have a job in the pharmacy market. It didn’t surprise you at all the horsemen had his hand in the practice. Sickness could have caused a nationwide panic. And he had the cure everyone would be begging for if he began spreading something that was found to be incurable. Kind of like the croatoan virus if you weren’t fast at stopping the Devil. You had been kicking a close eye on Crowley. While you didn’t trust him with your life, he had proved himself useful, in ways that Ruby never was. He might have sold you into this role, but he was trying his hardest to retract all his handy work.

“Why are we even listening to him, guys?” Sam asked. You let out a sigh when you were about to reach for another gun to load, only you were stopped when the younger Winchester began to bait for another argument about the matter. The three of you were alone, Crowley off in his little house, doing whatever demons do. The man seemed skeptical from the start to trust him, and he was only bringing his opinions up yet again. This is totally insane.”

“I don’t disagree.” Dean muttered as he shoved a magazine clip into his pistol.

Crowley slapped his hands together, signaling his presence in the room after overhearing the conversation that was about him. “One big happy family, are we, then? Fantastic.”

“Ready to go, grumpy?” You asked, tossing another weapon into the bag and tucking the demon knife into the waistband of your jeans for safekeeping.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Crowley answered your question that was directed to Sam. You ignored what had happened and adjusted your shirt so the knife would be kept hidden for now. But as you were about to take a step forward, the demon pointed a hand to the younger Winchester. “Sam, keep the home fires burning. Sam’s not coming.”

“And why the hell not?” The younger Winchester questioned the demon.

“Because I don’t like you…I don’t trust you. And—oh, yes.” Crowley walked forward to the man as he began listing off a few reasons to keeping him benched. “You tried to kill me.”

“There’s no damn way.” Sam argued. “This isn’t gonna happen!”

“I’m not asking you, am I? ‘Cause you’re not invited. I’m asking you and your little boy toy over there.” Crowley pointed his finger directly at you, shifting the conversation so all eyes were now on your impending answer. “What’s it gonna be, darling?” Sam looked at you with his infamous bitch face as Dean was tempted to answer for you, but he remained silent. You rolled your eyes from the decision that was being forced upon you. Crowley took your silence as a nonverbal no. “Gentleman, lady…enjoy your last few sunsets.”

Crowley decided that none of you didn’t his help anymore. You watched as he began walking across the room and to the doorway, and while you were tempted to let him walk out there, you knew what the right thing to do was in this situation. “Wait,” You called out to him. Crowley stopped in his tracks, curious to see what you had to say. His lips stretched into a smirk when he heard you speak those two words. “We’ll go. Dean and me, I mean.”

“Y/N,” Sam whispered your name in a warning tone. “Really? You’re smarter than this.”

“What can I say? He’s like family to me. And he is part of the reason why we’re even in this mess, too. He’s partially responsible.” You reminded the man as you nodded your head for Dean to grab the duffel bag. You began walking across the room to catch up with Crowley, all while Sam’s eyes followed you, a look of disapproval never left his face. You turned around and pulled out the knife. “Don’t worry, Sammy. If he pulls any move, I’ll make sure actually stab him this time.”

“How comforting.” Crowley muttered underneath his breath.

You gave the demon a smile when you passed by him, heading for the Impala first to claim the passenger’s side seat as the two men followed behind you. Sam watched from the porch as the three of you climb into the Impala, and just in the matter of seconds, headed off to find this demon. If there was anything that Sam knew for sure, it was never to trust a demon from his own personal experience. They told him things that lured him into doing making the wrong choice and screwing things up even more. Maybe that’s why he found himself growing a less trustful of you each day. Until he knew there was a way to get you back to normal.

Maybe what his brother had said back in the panic room had some truth to it. Maybe you were going to be his reason to saying yes to the Devil.

\+ + + 

It was going to be a headache to get in there, that was for sure. You sat in the passenger’s seat of the Impala with Dean across from you in his usual spot behind the wheel and your special guest occupying the middle of the backseat where you had normally called your own. You had snatched the binoculars from Dean’s grip after he spent a few minutes too long staring at the entrance of the building where this stable boy, Brady, had been working at, slowly climbing himself up to the snazzy office on the top floor while his boss went cross country, making the American population ever so desperate for whatever fancy drug they could help stop this swine flu. You placed down the binoculars to your lap when you caught a glimpse to the two men strolling around the lobby, security from the looks of their uniform. Either they were the enemies, or fellow people that were going to get a pass for tonight after you figured out a way to get in the building and finally meet this infamous Brady that you had been hearing all about

“What do you say, Crowley?” You looked over your shoulder as you asked your fellow partner for tonight to see if there was something more than you could make out with the naked eye. “Are we dealing with demons?”

“Nah. Human shields.” Crowley said. “Demons are on the top—twelfth floor.”

“All right, then.” Dean muttered as he peered out the window to see most of the windows on the top floor were illuminated with light. He wasn’t gonna risk the chance of getting himself caught with the security, that would only complicate things, so he decided to go his usual way of breaking into places he didn’t belong. “We’ll have to find a way in the back.”

Crowley wasn’t the least bit impressed hearing the hunter’s plans as he rolled his eyes, “You Winchesters make everything so complicated.”

Dean found the comment that Crowley had made about his way of thinking a bit unamusing. As he looked into the rear view mirror to tell the demon to shove it, he noticed that the back seat was empty, Dean quickly turned around to see that the only person in the car was you and him. “Ah, crap.” He muttered underneath his breath, a bad feeling starting to rise in his head. He looked over at the office building to see a blurry figure pop out from nowhere. Without asking, he snatched the binoculars from your lap and focused on the lobby. His eyes went wide to see that Crowley was standing behind one of the security guards, who was innocently reading a magazine, trying to make the night go by faster. The poor sucker had no idea what was about to happen when Crowley took a knife out from his pocket and slit his throat clean. “Crap! Crap!”

You didn’t know what was causing such a tiff with the oldest Winchester until you saw Crowley go for a second round with the other security guard. You rolled your eyes and let out a huff of frustration from what Crowley thought was being helpful. Throwing the binoculars to the seat, you followed behind after Dean stumbled to open up the driver’s side door fast enough to stop the demon from taking another person’s life. But it was a little bit too late for that. You banged on the glass door of the office, you and Dean peeked inside the lobby to see that Crowley was casually standing at the front desk cleaning off his knife as one dead body laid at his feet and the other leaned back in his seat after he shouted the door was open. The demon innocently looked up from the blade that he tried cleaning with a gray silk handkerchief to see that the both of you were looking at him with mix parts of shock and anger. Crowley, however, didn’t see what the problem was here.

“You killed them?” You asked the demon, your tone a bit annoyed from what he’d done that caused more problems for the three of you.

“We’re on a tight schedule. People to see, demons to kill.” Crowley said, shrugging off your look as he stepped over the dead body, making sure not to get his shoes dirty as he grabbed Dean by the arm and headed forward to the elevator. You followed behind the two men, but the oldest Winchester found himself looking over his shoulder and at the sight once more, his eyes were still stuck on the dead bodies that were killed for no reason other than to make this meeting easier for all of you. “Now you’re squeamish? Please.” The demon had no empathy for the man as he pushed him into the elevator and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. You were about to get in yourself, but Crowley stopped you, knowing Dean had to go at this one alone. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Wh—” The oldest Winchester pressed a hand against the elevator door when he realized that he was about to face at least a half dozen demons by himself. He gave Crowley a confused look as he asked, “You two aren’t coming?”

“Oh, no. It’s not safe up there for me. There’s demons.” Crowley answered. A little smirk began to crawl at the ends of his lips as the demon placed his hands inside his coat pocket, stepping back. Dean let out a sarcastic laugh and understood that there were demons upstairs, it would have been helpful if he had some back up to assist him. Aka, you. “Look, just do what I told you, get Brady all warmed up. And then I’ll send Y/N up. And try to be convincing. It’ll work like a charm. Trust me.”

Dean was pushed back into the elevator by Crowley and watched as the door slowly closed on him, leaving the man to go at this adventure alone. Your lips stretched into a smile as the demon waved goodbye, the oldest Winchester noticed your smile wasn’t one of reassurance, but of sort of amusement at what kind of trouble he was about to get himself into. When Dean was now on the second floor and moving his way up, you looked over at Crowley, wondering what had lead to a sudden change of plans. But it seemed that the demon had this mapped out all along.

‘When you get to be powerful as we are, there’s no point of doing the dirty work yourself. Let others take a beating and join when the fun gets good.“ Crowley gave you a little piece of advice as he looked over at the clock to see what time it was. He calculated a rough estimate of when you should go up there after Dean killed all those demons and pissed off Brady. You rolled your eyes at the demon’s attempt at trying to start a civil conversation between the both of you as you crossed your arms over your chest. You waited a few seconds, all before you hit the button to the twelfth floor, deciding that you wasted enough time waiting around here. “There are perks to being a demon. And it looks like you’re getting quite comfortable with them. Aren’t you?”

You furrowed your brow and gave the demon a dirty look, “I’m nothing like you.”

“Sure you aren’t. If your soul was even the slightest bit less dark from the last time I saw you, you would be upstairs with Dean right now. But you’re here down here with me, spending some quality time while your little boyfriend gets the crap kicked out of him.” Crowley said. You didn’t even flinch at the thought of Dean being in harm’s way. The demon’s eyes narrowed slightly as his lips stretched out slightly, almost in a smirk. “And you’re not even batting an eye.”

“Dean can handle himself. He doesn’t need me hovering over his shoulder every five seconds.” You said. You stepped into the elevator and pressed for the doors to close, all before you looked over at the demon, wanting to make sure he was going to be ready for this plan. “Be ready when I get down here with Brady. Or he’s not gonna be the only one with his skull caved in. Got it?”

"Of course. I’ll be on my best behavior.” Crowley agreed. “Just for you, kitten.”

You narrowed your eyes from what you heard the demon say, but before you could make the demon ever regret speaking that name, the door shut, leaving you only to stare at Crowley with a smirk on his lips for a second longer before you started moving up. The elevator ride took little over a minute before you were finally on the twelfth floor. As the door opened up, you stepped off, and was greeted with the sight of dead bodies sprawled across the place. You let out a low whistle to see that Dean had managed to take down all of the demons without much of a struggle as you began walking through the halls, wondering where Brady’s office was hiding in the maze of doors with names that you’d never seen before on gold name plates nailed onto the wood. But it took only about a few more seconds of wandering around to figure out where the two men had been having their civil conversation.

You stopped dead in your tracks when a pair of wooden doors came swinging open, at the result of a battered and slightly bloody Dean was thrown out of them, roughly landing on his side and just a foot away from where you stood. You furrowed your brow in confusion as you slowly looked away from the oldest Winchester, who was trying to push himself to his feet, and to the man who wasn’t playing nice. Your eyes landed on a boyishly handsome looking man. He pulled at the cuffs of his suit and composed himself, getting ready to continue on this fight that he had going with Dean that didn’t seem all that fair. As he was about to walk forward, it seemed that he had an unexpected guest. Your lips stretched into a smile when you watch his eyes flicker to an inky black, as if that little party trick was going to scare you into submission.

“Well, looks like you two are having fun.” You greeted the demon named Brady as you stepped over Dean’s body, letting him crawl on the floor for a second to catch his breath. You looked at Brady, and to show him who you were, you blinked, letting your eyes form to that pitch black. You caught your reflection in the window that overlooked the city below. Before a sight like this would scare you, but it got you excited, showing off a side of you that you’d never got to handle quite before. “Mind if I drop on by?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” The demon pointed a finger at you, as if he was unsure of who he was dealing with, but you could sense a bit of fear wash over him for just a split second as his eyes flickered back to their normal shade of blue. Your lips stretched farther into a smile as you outstretched your arms, answering his suspicions. But it seemed the power you had over him just from your name soon disappeared when he realized that you weren’t exactly employee of the month. You weren’t scared of what he could do. “You have made my night even better. You know, it was real therapeutic kicking the holy crap out of Dean over there. But you know what’s gonna feel great? Kicking your ass a few times beforehand diverting your ass on a silver platter to the big boss.”

“Is that so?” You asked, wondering if that was his big plan as you began taking a few steps back when Brady began to walk forward to you. You kept your hands hidden behind your back, keeping the weapon that you had found in the maintenance closet from being seen. Holy water and devil traps might have an effect on you, but lucky for you, iron didn’t burn your skin. “I mean, I just got here. Why rush things? Shouldn’t we start off nice and slow?“

Brady shrugged his shoulders as he took a giant step forward to you, his eyes flickering black again when he answered your question with another. "Why stop the fun when it’s just getting started, baby?”

You let out the faintest laugh from his pet name and pretended to take another step back from him, playing into the illusion that you may have found him a little bit intimidating. But demons were all the same, it was about controlling the power and making your victims feel inferior. You took your chance when you took a step forward to him and got close enough, swinging the iron rod at his head, stunning him just enough to buy you some time to get him down to the lobby like Crowley had instructed. You quickly turned around in your spot and headed for the bruised and battered Dean from the ground. The both of you headed for the elevator when Brady began to push himself to his feet. When he noticed that he was bleeding from the spot on his head where you had hit him, the demon wasn’t the least bit happy. But there was plenty more where that came from.

“Come on, Y/N! I was just playing with you!” Brady called out. You heard his laugh echo down the hall as you roughly pushed Dean into the elevator, needing to get the man out of here before he got even more injured. “Dean, where you going? We’re just getting started!”

The elevator door shut not even a few seconds after you caught Brady’s shadow creeping down the wall as he began to approach. Lucky for you and Dean, the both of you were slowly moving down when the demon was left on the top floor, giving you a bit of a head start. Dean leaned himself against the wall and tried to catch his breath. Your grip around the iron bar tightened as the numbers moved slowly down to the lobby, giving the two of you precious moments to catch your breath before it was time for round two. You swallowed as you watched the door slowly open, revealing an eerily quiet lobby. You began to quietly approach the door with Dean, and as you peered out, it seemed that nobody was in sight. Not even Crowley.

Brady wasn’t too far behind. You quickly turned your head to see Dean go sliding across the floor after being caught off guard by the demon. You felt someone kick the back of your knee, making you stumble forward, all before Brady reached out to grab you the arm that was holding the iron rod, you felt yourself lose the grip on the object, making it fall to the ground. Brady didn’t waste a second by tossing you to the ground, wanting you and Dean at separate corners so he could enjoy this fight equally. You steadied yourself to your knees and looked over your shoulder to see that Brady was standing in the elevator doorway. He adjusted his suit jacket and made sure he was composed at all times, even when he was about to kick your ass.

“I like your personality, Y/N. You’re a feisty little thing. And it’s exactly what the team needs. A leader to drive these old bag of bones to a new end.” Brady said. He stepped out to the lobby and to where you were. Your eyes wandered away from him when you caught a glimpse of someone, continuing on this plan like promised. “You’ve got potential, I can tell you that.”

But he wouldn’t after you had gotten through with him. Crowley approached from behind, and without Brady realizing it, a sack with some kind of trap painted on it was placed over his head. The iron bar that you had dropped was picked up by Crowley, who was clever enough to wear some extra protection with gloves. The demon greeted his fellow kind before swinging down a few times, making sure to knock Brady out good, and even letting out a bit of aggression while he was at it. You watched as his body dropped to the ground not even a few moments later, a blood stain starting to slowly form from where Crowley had severely whacked it.

“What the hell was that?” Dean questioned the demon, pushing himself to his feet when after the chaos that had erupted around him finally simmered down.

“That was perfect.” Crowley answered.

“Perfect? He didn’t want the rings.” The oldest Winchester said. “He wanted me.”

“Imagine the surprise on your face.” Crowley said. Dean didn’t seem to get what the demon was saying at the confused look at settled on his face. “Your ignorance and misinformation—I mean, completely authentic. You can’t fake that. What? It went like clockwork.”

“Not for me, you son of a bitch!” Dean hissed at the demon.

“Oh, come on. You just have a few bruises. You’ll live.” You said, not sure what the big was all about as you walked over to the man to see how badly his wounds would turn out. You wiped away a bit of blood that had began to dry at the temple of his head and ran the finger down his jacket, staining the fabric. “And it worked out in the end. We got Brady.”

“Thanks for the sympathy, Y/N.” The oldest Winchester grumbled, not particularly happy at how nonchalant you were being about this situation. “I feel a whole lot better.”

“That’s what you get, mate—working with a demon.” Crowley said as he pointed the iron bar at the man and waved it around slightly. You looked over your shoulder to see the demon had his eyes on you, giving you a feeling his remark wasn’t at himself, but you.

\+ + +

Dean took the opportunity to wipe away more of the blood from his face on the ride back to the abandoned house, where Sam had been impatiently waiting for you, if you had to guess. You watched the scenery pass by from the passenger’s side window as Dean took his eyes off the road every few seconds to make sure he got every spec of blood off in the rear view mirror with a clean bandanna he found. The man’s eyes wandered away from himself, and to the two demons occupying his backseat. A frown stretched across his face when he saw Crowley doing something that he shouldn’t have been with Brady’s unconscious body. You looked over your shoulder to see that Crowley was carving something into the demon’s skin after he took the liberty to unbutton his suit jacket and shirt with the same knife he’d slit the throat of those two security guards.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Dean warned the demon, making him stop his carving session when the man began to worry about his leather seats that were already damaged from Sam stabbing them with the demon knife. “Watch the upholstery!”

“Up yours, mate.” Crowley swiftly remarked back. You quietly scoffed as your eyes wandered to what the demon had painstakingly spent time working on into the other man’s chest. “This bit of carving will tie our friend here down. No zapping off, no smoking out—locked in the meat suit, an important piece of our bargaining strategy.”

“Fascinating.” You muttered underneath your breath. “He’s a regular, old Joe.”

“Now, up here, we don’t want I-50. Take 93 north.” Crowley instructed the oldest Winchester as he pointed a finger at the upcoming sign down the highway. Dean looked over his shoulder slightly to give the demon a confused expression from the change of plans that were being sprung on him without warning. “Look, we can’t take this guy back to your brother.”

“Why the hell not?” You asked. You were caught off guard yourself at what was going on here as you waited for some answer from the demon. When you were greeted with nothing but silence a few seconds afterwards, you weren’t exactly happy when you lashed out at him, treating him like a child. “Crowley! I asked you a question. Now answer it.”

“They got history, all right?” Crowley hesitantly admitted, knowing this wasn’t going to end well.

And it didn’t. Your hands quickly placed themselves on the dashboard when Dean slammed his foot on the break, sending the Impala to a screeching halt again. But this time Crowley wasn’t going anywhere. Dean placed his arm over the seat and looked at the demon straight in the eye, demanding some answers to his questions that he was about to ask. “You want to go anywhere, you start talking. What history?”

\+ + +

“Maybe he was right. This is a pretty stupid idea.”

You stood on the outside lines of the devil’s trap that Dean had spray painted after arriving back a little after dawn with Brady, your one and only tool to finding out where Pestilence was. You watched as Dean ignored your remark that was ultimately siding with the one that was supposed to be the enemy here. But Crowley proved himself to be useful, despite all the dirty tricks that he pulled over the past several hours to get what he wanted. Dean made sure that the ropes were tight around Brady’s body and stepped back, knowing it was only going to be a matter of time before he’d wake up, and his brother was going to lose it when he realized who was your special guest for today. You let out a quiet sigh when you heard footsteps echoing off the walls, and not even a second later, a tall figure appeared from out the corner of your eye.

“What’s going on, guys?” Sam asked, seeming confused as to why Crowley had wanted him far away from a demon that was trapped down with rope and a devil’s trap. But the true identity of the demon remained a secret with the sack still over his head. You looked over at Dean, letting him be the one to try and keep his little brother down when all hell broke loose. This was going to be like trying to keep a bear down with a dog leash. Sam was already wound up tight enough.

“I need you to stay on mission, okay?” Dean tried to warn his little brother about what was going to happen while still keeping the man in the dark. “Focused.”

“I don’t understand.” Sam said. “What’s all this about?”

“I’m doing this ‘cause I trust you.” Dean said, hoping his brother would cooperate.

Sam furrowed his brow, “Trust me to what?”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked over at Brady when you heard a soft groan come from the demon as he began to come back into consciousness. “Not to blow our only chance.”

“Sam?” Brady’s first words were the younger Winchester’s name. You rolled your eyes at what was going to happen in the matter of seconds as you looked away. “Sam, is that you?”

You looked over at the oldest Winchester, knowing that Sam had recognized the demon by his voice that brought him back to another time in his life, where he thought the hunting life had been far behind him. Dean stepped into the devil’s trap to remove the sack, revealing the familiar face to his little brother, making the man’s face slowly change from confusion, into pure anger when he whispered the demon’s name.

“Brady hasn’t been Brady in years. Not since, oh…middle of our sophomore year?” The demon thought back for a moment to make sure that he had gotten the timing right. His lips stretched into a toothy grin when he watched Sam go through the works at the reality of the situation that he had been dealt with. All along, they were guiding him by the hand, making decisions for him that lead him down this dark path, and losing people that he cared most about. “You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.”

“You son of a bitch.” Sam hissed underneath his breath. You knew the snarling glare that was slowly starting to sink into the man’s face, flaring nostrils and tightening brow, were signs that he was being filled with happy memories of college with the man. “You son of a bitch! You introduced me to Jess!”

“Ding! Ding!” Brady sarcastically congratulated the man. “I think he’s got it!”

"I’m gonna kill you!” Sam shouted on the top of his lungs, getting ready to lunge at the demon for what he did, putting him through all that pain and misery. All for their personal gain of building him even more into a hellbent, destructive man who would do anything for revenge.

Dean tried his hardest to get his brother to calm down as he pushed him out of the room, Brady sat there, laughing at the man’s misery as the three of you left him. You followed behind as Dean managed to get the young man corned back to the living room. But that wasn’t enough to keep Sam down. Despite all the warnings that he was given, Sam tried his hardest to get back in there, but you, despite being half of everything, managed to keep him pinned into one place for a moment.

“Get out of my way, Y/N!” Sam warned you. You followed his every move as he attempted to sneak past you. You knew he wasn’t desperate enough to lay a hand on you, and if he did, you were ready to fight back. “Get out of my way, Y/N. I swear.”

“What are you gonna do? You gonna go in there and punch him into a bloody pulp? Is that gonna make you feel better? It’s never enough with you. It’s always more, more, more. Get over it. She’s dead, Sam! Killing Brady isn’t going to make her come back. She’s been dead for a long time. This isn’t like it was before, this isn’t about revenge about some check you hooked up with in college for a year. This is the end of the world!” You explained to him in details that he might finally understand. “There is only one way to win, and it ain’t by killing that thing in there.”

Sam huffed out a breath as he peered down at you, your words leaving him more with a sour feeling inside his head than a better mood. You looked away from him when you saw Crowley approach the three of you, deciding that he should try and have a civil conversation.

"Well, sounds like you got him nice and fluffed.” Crowley said, interrupting the moment between you and the boys. You furrowed your brow in anger, wondering why he was still lingering around, poking his nose in a conversation that he didn’t belong to with more pressing matters that awaited him in the next room. “Thanks so much.”

“Listen to me.” You spoke once more after Crowley walked to the back of the house where you were keeping Brady, and disappearing from your sight. “We need Pestilence to get at the Devil, and we need Brady to get to Pestilence. Do you understand that? Or should I explain in it a bit more slower for you to understand?”

“I don’t need your smart ass comments, Y/N. Why? Because Crowley said so? Because we trust him now?” Sam questioned you, wondering where this sudden change of person had come from. He thought that you and his brother would have been smart enough not to fall for the same tactics that were pulled on him. “Like I trusted Ruby? Or like I trusted Brady back at school.”

“The only reason why you trusted them because you were selfish. They dangled something in your face, and you snatched at it. The demon blood, a pretty little blonde. All it takes is one thing and you’re done.” You said. Sam furrowed his brow as he tried his hardest not to argue with you. “You screw this up, Sam. And I swear…you’re going to lose something that will affect more than just you.”

You left with Sam with the words of advice that he could take anyway that he wanted. You began walking to the front door, saying something about needing some air. You managed to get yourself out the front door and several yards away from the house before you inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air, letting your lungs expand. You ran your fingers through your hair from how you were being pushed around with these different emotions lately. Sure, it was fun tapping into your demon side lately, but it was getting hard to put her back when you had to be your old self. The caring, sweet and gentle Y/N that the boys needed. The Y/N that Sam needed right now. You wondered if she was still in there, buried underneath all the evil that was slowly starting too hard to control. You had a feeling if you weren’t too careful, you might never be able to go back to that old self of you.

\+ + +

You leaned against the outside porch banister that was tangled with vines and overgrown weeds over the past several years of neglect. You managed to calm yourself down by taking a few laps around the property before finding yourself lingering outside the front door, not sure if you should step back in there after the situation that unfolded between you and Sam. Both of you had been battling different emotions inside of you. All of it stemmed out from the anger growing more vicious inside of you, demanding to be felt. The younger Winchester was self righteous, he was angry at the lack of progress things had been taking over the past couple months. And much as he didn’t want to admit it, his reaction to seeing Brady, the man who had set him up with the first woman he really felt close to, had brought a wave of emotions he had buried deep down for the past few years. And you trying to calm him down was like throwing oil onto a burning, out of control fire.

You brought the beer bottle to your lips after you’d snatched from the cooler that was sitting in a part of the house where you could easily sneak in without being noticed by one of the boys. It’d be only a few months since your soul was touched by the Devil, but you could feel it rotting faster than you could handle.

At first, the emotional range was noticeable right after you left Missouri without Ellen and Jo, not to mention, the lead you’d been chasing for what felt like forever had turned into another dead end, leaving you back at square one. You felt hopeless, angry. You thought the feelings were brought on by the grief that you felt and the lack of progress you were making. To keep yourselves busy, you and the boys decided to help out a fellow hunter they knew through their father who was in a mental hospital after suffering a breakdown. That’s where you had met a wraith, a creature who brought out their victim’s worst fears. She disguised herself as a nurse and fed off of her victims, who were helpless when their hallucinations were brushed off as part of their illness, leaving their unfortunate deaths as suicide. You and the boys had fallen victim to her little spell, bringing out some scary thoughts, but unlike the brothers, who suffered paranoia and fear, you felt yourself overcome with anger. Before her death, she mentioned something that had stuck with you for a while. She didn’t need to plant any of that emotion inside of you. It was all of your own handy work.

You let out a quiet sigh and pushed yourself to a standing position before starting to slowly walk around in small circles on the wooden floor. The incident at the hospital was just the beginning of this new side of you that you’d never seen before. It happened again when you had met the horsemen Famine, he made you ravenous for violence. Which resulted in you attacking someone that had accidentally brushed past you, hallucinating that Lucifer was there when he wasn’t, pushing you to do something that you regretted still to this day. You lost control after you beat up two demons that came for you. You let Sam break his sobriety from his demon blood addiction by drinking your own blood before he drained the demons that you pummeled into an almost unrecognizable state. Then it was breaking up with Dean to protect him, saying all those nasty things in the heat of the moment…making a deal with Heaven and Hell to try and stop the apocalypse. That was the last time when you felt fully in control of yourself.

You heard footsteps across the floor that weren’t your own causing you to turn around to see who it was. You furrowed your brow slightly to see that it was Crowley back from his talk with Brady. It was a bit hard to see who it went, as there wasn’t much of an expression on his face, no little smirk at the ends of his lips at the information that he had to dangle over your heads and see what he could do to get you to beg for it.

“Well, how’d it go?” You asked the demon. You leaned your backside against the banister and balanced your glass bottle on top of it. “He buy your girl scout cookies?”

“Not yet.” Crowley answered. You nodded your head and began to bring the bottle back to your mouth to take a sip. The demon glanced around the property to see if he could find a familiar face that shouldn’t have been too hard to miss, considering his large frame. His eyes wandered back to you when he couldn’t find Sam. “Where’s your moose?”

“My what?” You asked him, your brow furrowing again at his question. It took you a second before you realized that Crowley meant Sam. You rolled your eyes and shrugged your shoulders, not personally giving it much thought to where the younger Winchester had found himself to pull himself back to his logical self. Long as he wasn’t near Brady with the demon knife, you were happy. “He’s cooling off, I think. I don’t really know where. Nor, do I care at this very second.”

“All right, then. Get bent.” Crowley said. You looked away from the boarded up windows as your brow raised itself slightly, wondering if he was skipping out on all of you so soon after things were starting to become more complicated than his personal liking. “Well, he won’t budge, so now I go stick my neck out. You and your mongrels are making do exactly the kind of desperate swashbuckle. Now I go kick open a hive of demons.”

You pretended to feel sympathy for him as your thumb and index finger began to brush against one another, pretending to play the world’s smallest violin for him. Crowley wasn’t the least bit amused at your actions when he rolled his eyes and headed for the stairs. Before he could vanish into thin air, you gave him some advice that might come in handy, “Don’t get stung!”

Crowley turned around to face you to show you his expression that wasn’t the least bit amused from your remark, “This whole bloody ring business better work.”

“It will.” You said. “You do your part, I’ll do mine.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Crowley asked.

You downed the rest of your beer and threw the empty bottle into the overgrown grass, letting it be lost to you forever. Looking back over at the demon, you took off your jacket and draped it over the banister before you rolled up the sleeves to your flannel to your elbow. For an added touch, you undid a few of the buttons before making sure everything looked good and looked up at the demon. Crowley raised a curious brow, you scoffed at his reaction. “Don’t get any smart ideas.” You said, stopping any sort of crude remarks. “You have your ways, I have mine. Those demons won’t tell you where Pestilence is. So I’ll find out where that old geezer is hiding. And if Brady doesn’t want to play nice, I’ll make him sing like a canary after I get done with him.”

You cracked your knuckles to inform the demon that you had no intentions of stepping into the room Brady was being held for a polite conversation. If he couldn’t be persuaded into telling you where Pestilence was, maybe after you went a few rounds with him in an unfair fight he would tell you where the horsemen was. Crowley decided this conversation was better left off at this point. You stepped back inside the house to hear that it was mostly silent. Sam was still out working off his own problems, giving you a chance alone with the demon. His brother remained as your only obstacle that stood in your way from getting the answers you deserved.

Dean was in the bathroom with his back turned to the entryway, which was a bad choice on his part. You quietly dragged a chair over to the door and quietly shut it, all before you shoved the chair underneath the handle, making sure the oldest Winchester was out of the way. The man realized right away that he was locked in the bathroom after he attempted to push on the door to see if it would budge. Not a second later he was pounding on the door, calling out your name.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Y/N? Come on!” Dean slammed his fist on the wooden door, and while it shook from his violent ways of getting your attention, you stepped away from your handy work, letting his warnings drown out. “Damn it, Y/N! Open the door! Don’t do dare anything stupid…Y/N!”

His voice turned into muffled sounds when you stepped into the room that held Brady. You slowly began walking into the room, letting your footsteps be the only warning that the demon would have, making him guess who he was dealing with. “Well, here we go.” Brady started off the conversation by presuming the person he was dealing with was someone different from the chaos that he heard come from the other side of the house. “We doing last words or no, Sammy?”

“Guess again, big boy.” You spoke up as you circled around the demon with your arms crossed over your chest. You noticed from his disheveled appearance that Brady wasn’t looking his best today. He lost his tie and his suit was wrinkled and caked in his dried blood after getting hit in the head several times from Crowley. Not to mention all the dried blood that had formed around his face and down his neck, not to mention staining the collar of his dress shirt. Your eyes drifted away from the demon and to the devil’s trap for a second, Brady’s gaze followed to what you were staring at, a small chuckle escaped his mouth at the distance that kept him from you. He thought he was safe. “Where’s your boss hiding, Brady?”

"Going straight for the questions, huh? I thought you wanted to take things nice and slow. Y/N.” Brady remarked. You looked up at him to see a little smile growing on his lips, thinking he was gonna have fun here, yanking your chain and driving you insane from the harassment he was going to try and pull on you. “Like I told that traitor, my lips are sealed. I’m dead, whether I tell you anything or not. So I think I’ll die on the winning side, sweetheart.”

“I’m going to find out where Pestilence is with or without your help. So that leaves you with two options. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. You tell me where your boss is and I’ll make sure your death is quick and painless.” You said. You stepped into the devil’s trap, making that smile he had on his lips slowly fall at what you were doing, yet it only grew wider when you took the liberty to sit down on his lap. You followed his old nature of a charming man, letting him believe he had all the control here, that was, until you pulled something behind your back. His blue eyes landed on a knife, and while it wasn’t Ruby’s special one that would kill him, the blade was sharp enough to make him flinch after you pressed it against the crook of his neck. “Or…I could have a bit of fun. Torture the answer out of you.”

“Go ahead. Try me. But I gotta warn you, I’ve been around for a long time. Lilith didn’t scare me, neither did Azazel. Lucifer’s shiny new toy ain’t gonna scare me. You’ll eventually learn your place like the rest of us. However, I do have to say, he did an

job with the final package. I can see why he wants to get his hands on you so badly.” Brady leaned back in his seat and moved away from the knife, knowing it wouldn’t do much. However his eyes couldn’t help but to peek down your shirt from the little bait you had given him, thinking that he would start spilling answers if you set yourself up for him. But his eyes quickly were dragged up to your face when he felt the knife back at his throat. He let out a laugh before slightly wincing at the flinch of pain he forced upon after moving against the blade. “Don’t waste your time on me, sweetheart. Whatever tricks you got up your sleeve, I’ve seen it all before.”

“Mmm. Maybe you’re right about that. But answer this. Have you ever met a hunter that was turning into a demon? Out of anyone in this world, who does Lucifer care for the most? What would happen if he got word one of his stable boys was giving me sass?” You curiously asked the man. You slowly moved the knife away from his neck to press it against his lip when your own began to stretch into a smik. With just a bit of pressure, you pressed the knife into his bottom lip, carving the flesh to drawn even more blood, giving him a taste for what you were going to do to him. “You might be old, but I’ve got experience working both sides to my advantage. And don’t forget…I helped kill Lilith, Azazel, two horsemen and many more of your piss poor friends than I could count on my fingers. Or even care to remember. Not to mention, I was Alistar’s favorite pet in Hell. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. So, if you should fear anything in this world, it’s gonna me, sweetheart.“

Brady licked his lips to removed the blood when you pressed the knife to the crook of his neck again. You could feel his Adam’s apple move when he nervously swallowed, the words starting to dissolve in his head from what you told him. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you began to look at him like he was your prey. It was all waiting it out to see when he was going to give you the answer, but before he did, his eyes moved away from you, and to the special guest that had to ruin the moment. You quickly looked over your shoulder to see who it was when Brady spoke, quickly turning back to his old self. Your lips stretched into a frown to see that it was Sam. And he was holding the demon knife in his hand, getting ready to do something stupid.

"And the fun just keeps getting better.” Brady’s lips stretched into a smile at the sight of the younger Winchester coming back for some answers of his own. You pushed yourself to your feet and slid the knife into the back of your jeans before stepping out of the devil’s trap. “Where you going, Y/N? Just because Sammy’s finally joined us doesn’t mean the fun has to stop.”

“Shut up. Or I’ll cut your tongue out.” Sam threatened the man who looked like his old friend back at college, the one who had introduced him into the woman he loved. He pointed the knife at the demon for a safe measure. Brady’s smile slowly began to fade, but his arrogance never dwindled away. Sam began to take cautious steps around the demon. He wasn’t here to kill him just yet, he wanted some insight to what he said before. "Sophomore year, huh?”

“Brady, here, he was a good kid—straight arrow. I mean, your best friend, really. Perfect point of access.” The demon said, shining some light to this situation. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked over at Sam when he mentioned something about a holiday. It seemed his friend had come back a whole different person. “Yes, sir. Remember when I came back from break all messed up—dropped out of pre-med, the drugs, the bitches? That was the new Brady. That was me. Remember how much time you spent trying to get me back on the right track? You really were a good friend.”

The younger Winchester’s face slowly scrunched into an expression that wasn’t good; his eyes were burning holes into the demon as he heard him continue on talking as his lips pursed together. Your eyes drifted to his grip on the knife, his knuckles were turning white at how hard he was holding it. 

“But ol’ Yellow Eyes didn’t send me back to be your friend. No, we could tell you were starting to lose you. You were becoming a mild-mannered, worthless sack of piss. Now, come on, we couldn’t have that. You were our favorite. Well, mine, at least. I got to pull on your strings. So I hooked you up with a pure, sweet, innocent piece of tail. And then I toasted her on the ceiling.” Brady continued on, waiting to see how far he could push Sam until he snapped. The man had more control than he had given him, so, the demon went on about the night his little girlfriend died while he was away with you and his brother. “That’s right—Azazel might have put the hit out on Jessica, but, man, I got to have all the fun!”

Brady let out a throaty laugh at how hard Sam was trying to keep it together. He watched as the man struggled not to let his personal feelings get in the way to stab him right here and now. You brushed off the demon’s story with a scoff as you walked over to Sam, getting ready to drag him out of the room. But Brady wasn’t done yet. “You know, she thought we were friends, too. Let me right in. She was baking cookies. She was so surprised…” The demon chuckled as he continued on, Sam exhaled a deep breath through his nose as his eyes narrowed slightly and his upper lip began to twitch uncontrollably. All it would take was a few more words before the man came undone. “So hurt when I started in on her.”

Sam couldn’t take it anymore. All of the same emotions crept on him all at once when the memory began to play in his head again. Lying on his bed, wondering where Jess was hiding on him after he had gotten home late. He could feel that little droplet of blood hitting his cheek all over again that made him look up to the ceiling when he realized it wasn’t blood. He could feel the same vulnerability, the same anger when he saw his girlfriend with her backside to the ceiling. That expression of fear on her face that he had nightmares for years later on was caused by the person he called his best friend back at college. Hearing Brady laugh, like it was some funny story, made Sam lose it all over again. Before he realized it, Sam threw his arm up and lunged for the demon, getting ready to kill him once and for all.

“Sam, stop!”

Your warning had went in one ear and out the other, Sam wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way of slitting Brady’s throat to put the revenge that had fueled him for years finally to rest. But before he could step into the devil’s trap, the man felt himself being flung backwards into the air. The demon knife that he had a white knuckle grip slipped away from him when he landed roughly against the wall. Sam winced when his head hit the wall due to the impact and tried to brush off the incident, thinking Brady somehow was the cause of it. He was laughing like a maniac at what had unfolded. Maybe the trap broke and he gotten out of his bonds. When his vision finally stopped showing two versions of the same object, he noticed that Brady was still tied down. And the demon knife was lodged straight into the wall, the handle sticking out. Sam realized that it wasn’t Brady, but you who flung him across the room.

You could feel your breathing growing heavier at what you had done. Ever so slowly, your eyes began to grow wider as you looked over at Sam, who remained on the ground because of you. While it might have been a shocking situation for you, but to the younger Winchester, this was the kind of breakthrough he’d been hoping for. Sam felt like he was seeing the old you again, the one which was scared of turning into a demon. What you had done triggered a bit of the old you. You were horrified at what you had done, you had remorse for your actions. Sam knew that was a good sign. It gave him hope that you weren’t too far gone to be saved if Brady told you where Pestilence was. He suddenly wasn’t that angry anymore about Brady. He realized that Jess wasn’t the one he should have been thinking about, it was you. He save you. And killing Brady wasn’t going to do that. Not until all of you got the information that you needed. Than it was fair game to see that demon suffer, just like how poor Jess did.

"Oh, that was great. You two know how to put on a show for me.” Brady said. He threw his head back and let out another laugh in amusement. You quickly headed over to where Sam was and bent down to help him up from the floor, quietly mumbling an apology for what you had done. Both of you decided that doing this would only lead to emotions neither one of you were stable enough to handle. Sam ripped out the knife from the wall and began heading out first, you followed right behind him, not wanting to spend another second here with Brady. “Where you going, baby? I was just starting to have some fun.”

“Piss off.” You hissed at him,

"There’s that fiery personality Jess never had—not until I got done with her. But I gotta say, the both of you were pretty hot. In more ways than one! Wouldn’t you agree, Sammy?” Brady called out to the younger Winchester, attempting him yet again to see how far he could push the man. You found yourself nearly stumbling forward when Sam stopped dead in his tracks without warning. It was slowly starting to work. “Guys, come on! All of us were having fun, having some laughs. Why quit when the party’s just getting started?”

Sam couldn’t lie through his actions. He looked over his shoulder and that expression began to slowly stretch across his face again. But before he could shove that knife into Brady’s chest like he wanted, you placed a hand on his, shaking your head. You gave him a small smile, reassuring him that he could get through this, revenge would be there when the time was right. The both of you quickly looked away from one another when you heard pounding on the bathroom door. Sam furrowed his brow in confusion when he heard his brother shouting your name, you let out a quiet sigh.

“Did you…lock Dean in the bathroom?” Sam asked. You shrugged your shoulders and rolled your eyes when his brother wouldn’t quit trying to get your attention. The both of you headed over and tried to move the door, but with Dean pounding away, it was hard to move the chair that was stuck underneath the handle. “Hey, hey, hey! All right! Wait! I’m gonna open it.”

Sam managed to remove the chair and open the door before Dean could try and break it down , which you were surprised that he didn’t considering the strength and height he had against you. The oldest Winchester stormed out of the bathroom and began walking to the end of the hall where Brady was being kept, his suspicion of something bad was the first question he asked when he was granted freedom.

“What happened?” Dean questioned the both of you.

You looked over at Sam, a pleading expression came across your face from the thought of Sam telling Dean about the little incident that he had with you. Sam, luckily, told only what his brother wanted to hear. "Nothing.”

“My ass. The both of you have been acting a hell of a lot like Jack Torrence and Alex Forrest lately.“ Dean grumbled underneath his breath. You rolled your eyes underneath your breath when you told him the both of you were fine. But that wasn’t stopping him heading to the room just to make sure your special guest was fine. "Yeah? And what about Brady?”

“I mean, I would love to stab the son of a bitch. Don’t get me wrong. But, like you said…” Sam followed his brother into the next room, showing the man that you had left the demon exactly like how you had left him. Brady gave a tight smile, obviously not happy with being left alone after he got a kick out of harassing the younger man. “We need him.”

“God. The day I’ve had.” You nearly jumped out of your own skin when you heard a familiar accent break your concentration away from the conversation you were having. You looked behind you to see that Crowley was finally back from his own adventures. Your brow furrowed in concern to see that he had been through hell. Bits of his suit was torn to pieces as there was a fine splatter of blood on one side of his face. You opened your mouth and pointed at the demon, tempted to ask him what happened, but you refrained, stepping out of the way when Crowley began heading over to Brady. “Good news. You’re going to live forever.”

Brady’s face slowly began to form into a bit of a panicked expression at what he heard the demon say, it referred back to their private little conversation they had together. “What did you do?” He cautiously asked with suspicion.

“Went over to a demon’s nest—had a little massacre. Must be losing my touch, though—let one of the little toads live. Oops. Also might have given said toad the impression that you left your post last night. Because you and I are—wait for it—Lovers in League Against Satan.” Crowley said. You found yourself rather impressed with what the demon had done as your lips stretched into a smirk from how Brady reacted. The other demon let out a sigh from how one little white lie made it out to be he was turning against his own kind. Thanks to Crowley, Brady was on your side. “Hello, darling.”

“Well, I’ll be honest, I had my doubts about you.” You said to Crowley as you began walking over to him. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at Brady. He was cornered, with no way out of this now. “But you are one sneaky bastard. We make a good team.”

“That, we do. So, now death is off the table for our good friend. And if this thing happens to go belly up, you won’t be alone. Brady has found himself added on the boss’s personal eternal-torment list with little old me.” Crowley said. Your smile grew even wider when Brady began shaking his head from the thought of living through whatever sick and twisted idea Lucifer would come up with. And not to mention, what you could do. “Something else we have in common—apart from our torrid passion, of course—craven self-preservation.”

“So, now that you have no leg to stand on, why don’t you make yourself useful and tell us where Pestilence is? And before you say anything stupid, you’ll dealing with a half demon, someone who tortured souls in hell, along with a demon who just sold you out. And not to mention,” You stepped into the devil’s trap and bent down, placing both hands on the armrest. You made sure Brady knew you were dead serious with your threat. “A very pissed off Sam who wants nothing more than to gut you after what you did to him. If I were you, I’d choose wisely.”

Brady pretended not to be afraid of your little scare tactics when he opened his mouth, but before any words could come out, something else in the far distance of the house stopped him, You could feel a shiver run down your spine when you immediately stood up and looked at the windows. You knew that sound, you inhaled a shaky breath as you began looking around to see where it was. Another echo of a cry and a bark wasn’t good. You knew what was coming, and it was your worst fear. You always had a casualty after facing one.

“Please tell me that wasn’t a hell hound.” You whispered ever so quietly. Crowley happened to notice another bark coming closer, he answered with an unfortunate yes. “Damn it! Why was that a hell hound?”

Crowley had a small hunch to how a hell hound had followed him here after slaughtering all those demons. He snuck a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, silver coin. Sam asked what it was after he caught a glimpse of it. “Remember I was telling you about my crafty little tracking device?” Crowley asked. You nodded your head, but his answer didn’t leave you with a positive outcome for this situation. “Demons planted one on me.”

“You’re saying a hell hound followed you here?” Sam asked, his voice hardening at the situation that was slowly unfolding into a crappy one.

“Well, technically,” Crowley decided to sass the younger Winchester when he corrected him as he showed him the coin. “He followed this.”

“Get me out of here. I’ll tell you anything you want.” Brady said, trying to save his own skin.

“Shut up.” You ordered to Brady, not giving him much thought as you looked at Crowley. “Okay, well, then we should go.”

“Sorry, darling. No one knows more about the hounds than I.” Crowley said. You eyes widened in anger at the situation he was leaving you in to save his own skin from being torn apart. “You and your boys are long past the point of ‘go.’”

Crowley threw the coin up in the air in the direction of where Dean was standing, and with a bit of luck, the oldest Winchester managed to catch it. He opened up his palm to see that he was holding the coin, and no demon in sight when he looked up to where he was standing just a few seconds ago. “Damn it.” He muttered underneath his breath.

“I told you!” Sam yelled, knowing better than to trust a demon.

“Oh, well,” Dean mocked his brother like a small child, “Good for you.”

"Oh my God. Shut up! Both of you are acting like overgrown children.” You said, stopping a fight about this situation before it could get any worse as you got the two of them to focus. “Luckily, we have salt in the kitchen. Dean, go get it. Sam, watch Brady.”

“Watch me? That’s your big plan, Y/N?” Brady asked. He let out a chuckle as you looked over at him, you weren’t the least bit amused when he raised his voice to you, thinking he was in the position of making commands. “Get me the hell out of here, you stupid bitch!”

“Oh, so I’m a bitch now? Is that so, Brady?” You asked, a small smile spreading across your lips as you walked over to him. Without warning, you roughly grabbed him by the cheeks, pressing your index finger and thumb into his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “You call me that again, and I’ll make your first form of punishment as puppy chow. You understand me?”

You threw his head back as you gave him a warning before you walked off, wondering what was taking Dean so long of grabbing the salt from the kitchen. As you headed down the hall and turned a corner, you opened your mouth to ask the man what was taking so long, but the only thing that came out next was a surprised gasp at the terrifying beast that came crashing through the window. You fell to the ground as Dean tried to shield you away from the broken glass when the hound broke through and landed roughly on a rickety old table. It slid across the floor before stopping, but he was just getting started. Dean yanked you up from the ground and shoved you down the hallway before he slammed the door shut, buy himself some time before the hound could follow and grab the gun filled with salt rounds.

“Sammy!” You called out the younger Winchester’s name as a warning to get Brady ready to run for it. When you somehow got this hell hound in control. You and Brady were the only ones who could see it, but considering the demon was still tied down, it was up to you to try and help Dean shoot. But as the man cocked the gun back, you could see the hound get ready to jump and make its move. Without much of a thought, a command slipped out of your mouth. “Hey! Easy, killer! Stay!”

You waited for the hell hound to pounce on you after you watched its rather large head turn its attention to you. You nervously swallowed when you saw it slowly start to move one large paw in front of the other as he began to make his way forward. He began to lowly growl, as he thought you were the enemy, but as he got closer, something started to change. You watched as he listened to your command. He stopped for a few moments. Only he positioned his large nose over you to take a sniff. The boys watched with the utmost confusion as they only heard sniffing sounds, all before the growling noises stopped. You watched as the hound turn its attention away from you or the boys, and to Brady.

“Damn it!” Brady yelled out in fear. “Get me the hell out of here!”

“Shut up!” The boys yelled the command in sync.

“You guys really gotta stop doing that.” You muttered underneath your breath. The hound’s full attention was not on you or the boys, but your one thing to find out where Pestilence was. You watched as the hound began to slowly approach Brady, its mouth opening to show off its razor sharp teeth and claws that were ready to tear him into shreds. “Uh, so, what the hell do we do now?”

“Hey!” You furrowed your brow as you looked over to see it was another familiar face that you had seen just a few moments ago. You let out an annoyed sigh to see that it was Crowley, you gave him a look, wondering why he was back so soon. “What can I say? You were right about one thing. We make a good team, kitten. I’m invested. Currently.”

“You really gotta stop with all these weird nicknames—Wait, is that…” You pointed a finger at the very familiar looking animal standing next to the demon.Your eyes went wide when he shouted a command at the other hound. “You can control them, too?”

"What? No. Not that one. I brought my own. Mine’s bigger.” Crowley said. An arrogant smirk spread across his lips as he patted his own hound, all before shouting another command at his pet. “Sic ‘em, boy!”

You got out of the way before you could get caught in the middle of a fight between hell hounds. And it was a vicious sight you didn’t want to see when Crowley’s hound dug its claws into the one that was about to attack Brady. All of you managed to get out of the house when chaos erupted from walls breaking and furniture crumbling as the hounds went at it. Brady ran like a bat out of hell as you and the boys followed close behind. The demon slid himself into the backseat as you opened up the passenger’s side, not even wanting to take the chance of getting yourself stuck between Crowley and Brady. But before you could slide inside, you looked over at Crowley when you heard him let out a chuckle from the fight going on inside and the whimpers he heard from the hound that was currently being ripped apart by his own pet.

“I’ll wager thousand my pup wins.” Crowley said.

The demon let out another chuckle at the disgusted look that crossed your face before you slid yourself inside the front seat with boys of the boys following suit. You might have been squished between them, but it was better than being stuck with Crowley and Brady. Dean turned on the engine before he slammed his foot on the gas, leaving the abandoned house to disrupt into chaos as the hounds fought to the death. You looked over your shoulder best as you could to see the house slowly become a hazy figure in the darkness as all of you drove off. Now wasn’t the time to wonder if a hell hound was going to be all right. Your eyes drifted to Brady for a moment, knowing well enough you had unfinished business with him tonight.

\+ + +

Revenge, it was what fueled the Winchesters and Y/L/N families. You always thought it would only be sought after by one demon; good, old Yellow Eyes. He was the one responsible for ending the lives of the brothers’ parents along with your own between the span of a few decades. It started off with Mary, then it was your father, your own mother followed suit before John was the final one to fall victim to the demon. You and the brothers thought Jess was one of Azazel’s victims as well. But it seemed he didn’t have the pleasure. He had put a bounty out on her head, and someone close the younger Winchester nabbed the special prize. Five and a half years later, with you and the brothers standing outside in a dark alley, you got the chance to put some old problems to bed for good before facing something that was much more more than just some vengeance of a demon that killed someone you loved. This was about the end of the world. Brady, who was cornered with no way to go, unwillingly coughed up where his boss would be.

“Yeah.” Brady, who was cornered with no way to go, knew he didn’t have much of a choice when he handed over a folded piece of paper with some address and scribbled down for you to see. You wanted to make sure that he wasn’t bluffing about where his boss would be as you walked away from him and headed over to Crowley, wanting a second opinion on the matter. “I’m sure Pestilence will be there.”

“It’s good. Of course, you got no reason to lie, have you?” Crowley asked his fellow demon. You tucked the piece of paper into your back pocket for safekeeping as you looked over at Brady again when he flashed the other man a snarky smile. “Like I said before, you’re in my boat now.”

“You’ve screwed me—for eternity.” Brady said. You let out a quiet chuckle from what he thought was going to happen to him when you began walking away. The poor little demon believed that he was going to be Lucifer’s stress puppet for centuries to come. He threw you a dirty look, still thinking that all of this was going belly up, that the world was going up in flames. He might be seeing them, but it would be hellfire for his damned soul.

“Don’t worry,” You reassured the demon. “You won’t last that long. Trust me.”

Brady didn’t have a good feeling about this as he watched Crowley heading for the alley and Dean grabbed the canister full of salt, making a line that would trap himself in here with two pissed off hunters and a half demon. He knew the reputation that was carried on about you and the brothers. They never left a demon alive. Brady had a feeling things were turning south for him, but Crowley was getting a free pass. “Where are you going?” He called out, asking the demon as he made a break for it. 

“I’m going to do you a favor.” Crowley answered. He stopped next to Sam, who was standing right across from Brady with the demon knife in his hand, and a type of expression that didn’t leave a good feeling in the bit of the demon’s stomach. Brady looked away, knowing his life was being measured in minutes. Crowley took a few steps away from the young man, and while Dean was distracted with getting the salt line set up, the demon took his opportunity to whisper something quietly in your ear as you felt something slip into your jacket pocket. “I believe I have something you may want. I suggest you stay in touch if you want to find out what it is, darling.”

You furrowed your brow slightly as you slipped your hand inside your pockets, you felt a folded piece of paper waiting to be read. But not here. Crowley continued on walking to the edge of the salt line, Dean was nearly finished, but the demon thought he was going to make a getaway. The oldest Winchester looked at the demon with a sort of threatening glare, as if he was honestly think of leaving him trapped and left for the safe fate as Brady, but you stepped forward and nodded your head, giving Crowley a chance to disappear into the night. Dean finished up the salt line and set the canister down. The both you took a few steps forward, but you kept your distance, knowing well enough this was Sam’s fight. And while Brady stood there with a little smirk on his lips and hands shoved in his dress pants, you knew it was all a bluff.

“What is this?” Brady asked, thinking this was some tactic to scare him.

"All those angels, all those demons, all those sons of bitches—they just don’t get it, do they, boys?” You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at the demon straight in the eye. It was your turn to let a smile spread across your lips from how his set his own fate way long before he handed over that piece of paper. It was when he stepped into that dorm room and burned Jess to a crisp. “You see, Brady, if you think I’m scary…you have no idea what my boys are capable of. Especially if you go after someone they love.”

Brady let out a scoff from what you had said. You stepped back and stood next to the oldest Winchester, the both of you watched as Sam took his opportunity, he drew up the knife and began walking slowly forward to the demon. To the one who had killed his girlfriend. Brady, however, wasn’t the least bit afraid as he stared at the hunter with a smile and started to chuckle at how terrifying the man was trying to be. But you knew Sam wasn’t pulling on an act. This was who he had become, and Brady was going to get just a taste of what the man was capable of.

“I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy.” Brady taunted the younger Winchester, watching as the man to approach closer and closer with the knife ready to strike. “Gonna make you feel all better?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “It’s a start.”

“Gonna make up for all the times that we yanked your chain—Yellow Eyes, Ruby, me? But it wasn’t all our fault, was it? No, no, no, no. You were the one who trust us. You’re the one who let us into your life, let us whisper in your ear over and over and over again.” Brady continued on as he slowly began to walk backwards, keeping up the taunts for long as he could. “Ever wonder why that is, Sammy? Ever wonder why we were so in your blind spot? Maybe it’s because we got the same stuff in our veins and, deep down, you know you’re just like us.”

Brady could tell he was hitting all the right nerves inside the man’s head. He felt his smile grow wider as he could see Sam’s breathing becoming heavier, a sign that was getting out the anger that he wanted. If Brady was going to die, he wasn’t going down without a fight. He lunged forward at the hunter as he let out a yell. His actions resulted in Sam cutting his arm and shoving him face first into the brick wall. You found yourself nearly heading over there when you saw Brady make a move, but Dean quickly pulled you away, knowing well enough this was Sam’s battle to fight. The demon let out a chuckle as he inhaled a few deep breaths of his own, trying to regain some of his strength as he looked back at Sam.

"Maybe you hate us so much because you hate what you see every time you look in the mirror. You ever think of that?! Or…maybe the only difference between you and a demon is that your hell is right here. Staring at you in the face every single day. Maybe that’s why you wanna jump in the pit so badly. Sure, you tell yourself it’s the right thing to do. You might not have been able to save Jess, but you can still save her. Your big bro and best friend will live happily ever after. But you know it’s more than just that. Those feelings have been there long before I showed up. It’s because you’re a tad bit jealous. Aren’t you?” Brady kept his voice no louder than a whisper so the younger Winchester could only hear what he had to say. His lips stretched into a wider smile as the demon’s eyes drifted away from the man, and to your face for just a split second. “You want it. Well…you want her.”

Sam roughly lunged forward and pinned Brady against the wall, he warned the demon that he was nearing the last moments of his life when he pressed the knife against the hollow of his throat. Brady couldn’t help himself but let out a laugh from the man’s reaction.“Oh, Lucifer made sure you got it real bad. I mean, I always knew you had a little crush on brother’s girl. It started off innocent enough. Right? It only popped up every once in awhile. When the two of you were deep in some conversation, or she was comforting you when your brother looked at you like some kind of freak. She made you feel better because she understood you. And you kept quiet like a good boy. Because you knew it was the right thing to do. But you could only keep it to yourself for so long.”

“When people started dropping like flies, you began to wonder…‘How come Dean-o always gets the girl? Why not me?’ Why does a prick like Dean deserve a woman like Y/N?” Brady spoke your name for the first time, thinking that would do the final trick. But Sam continued on staring at him with a predatory gaze, not falling for the bait just yet. “You’ve lusting more than just the demon blood running through her veins after that little incident. War told me all about you, then he told Lucifer. That’s why he showed up as her at your motel room that night instead of Jess like he planned. The both of you want the exact same thing at the end of the day. And she could be all yours. You just gotta say the magic word to the boss.”

Brady could feel the knife dig deeper into his skin, causing a bit of blood starting to trickle down his neck from the result of hitting a sensitive nerve in Sam. But he continued to press on it, harder and harder, wanting the man to snap and finish the job. “‘To keep you from the evil woman, From the smooth tongue of the adulteress. Do not desire her beauty in your heart, Nor let her capture you with her eyelids.'” The demon recite a passage from the bible, a small smirk crept on his lips again to show that he could see right though the younger Winchester. “Envy’s a sin, you know. So is lust, Sammy.”

The younger Winchester had enough of hearing the demon talk. He took a step back, all before he shoved the blade of Ruby’s knife straight into Brady’s chest, taking him by surprise. A smirk began to creep at the ends of the hunter’s lips as he watched the demon’s body slowly drop to the ground. Sam stepped away to inspect his handy work. None of what Brady said had seemed to really bother him. Maybe it was the truth, maybe it was the demon’s last attempt at trying to be brave before he faced his brutal end. Either way, Sam shrugged it off as nothing.

“Interesting theory.” Sam muttered to the dead body.

Sam began to take a few steps backwards before he turned around. He began walking straight to the Impala, ignoring the sympathetic look and Dean’s worried gaze. Sam cleaned the blood of the knife by running both sides on his jeans before pocketing it for safekeeping. It might have taken him years, but it was over. Justice for the woman he loved in a previous life was finally put to rest. Now it was time to focus on another.

\+ + +

You looked at the piece of paper again to make sure you had the right place. From the street sign and the time on the clock, this was where Crowley asked you to meet him. You stood outside of a busy little restaurant, an upscale one that you had felt a bit under dressed with your usual attire of distressed jeans and flannel. It was more out in the open than you thought he would have been comfortable with. But the demon sure liked to pick the finer things in life. And this was no exception. Pocketing the crumbled piece of paper back into your jacket, you stepped inside, not sure what you were getting yourself into. You scanned the place to see it was rather quiet for this early afternoon. There was a few strangers enjoying lunch and a lonely soul at one end of the bar, leaving the opposite side empty. You inhaled a deep breath and headed over to take a seat at the very end, giving some privacy to whatever you were about to get yourself into.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to happen. The demon slipped the address into your pocket before saying that he had something you may have wanted. What it was had yet to be determined. And it better had be worth it. You had to pull a major white lie to the brothers and steal some poor sucker’s car to get here. As you looked away from the impressive amount of alcohol the restaurant had on display, you looked over your shoulder, expecting to see the seat next to you still empty. But you could feel your heart nearly skip a beat as you hissed out his name from the sneak attack that he pulled on you. Crowley occupied the stool next to yours as he gave you a bit of a smirk, seeming rather amused at the cheap scare he managed to pull on someone like you. The demon brought a glass that was already half full to his lips to take a sip.

“Crowley?” You whispered his name.

“In the flesh, darling—of a moderately successful literary agent out of New York.” The demon said, flashing you a smile before taking another sip of his drink. You furrowed your brow as you wondered why he asked you to a bar if he was drinking his own. “Their supplies doesn’t satisfy my taste. Nothing but the finest whiskey touches these lips. And the decor here has always intrigued me. You could say I like looking at pretty things while I drink.“

“If I wanted an old man to hit on me, I’d ask that creep down there.” You whispered. Your finger pointed to the lonely drinker that stared out the window that overlooked the streets as he quietly observed the people that passed by. “Why the hell did you ask me here, Crowley?”

“Remember when I said that I could hear all of your private conversation you and the boys had in the car?” Crowley asked. You furrowed your brow as you slowly nodded your head, wondering what he was trying to get here. "I heard everything your little archangel friend said on that DVD. I know putting Lucifer back in the box will reverse any sort of damage he did to your soul. And I know you’ve been trying to get your hands on some very hard-to-find angel grace.”

"Good to know we’re all on the same page.” You said. You watched as the demon began to casually take another sip of his drink, letting a small pause fall between the two of you as he looked up at you, as if he was expecting you to say something else. “But it’s kind of dead end for us. My lovely friend that could help decided to blow himself to God knows where. And the last time I got my hands on that stuff, it belonged to another angel. I haven’t seen any of it since…”

You looked back over at Crowley when you found yourself staring off to another spot of the room when a waiter brought out a plate of food that looked rather good. The words that you were about to say died at the tip of your tongue as your mouth parted open slightly at what you saw dangling at the end of the demon’s hand. Hanging off a chain was a clear pendent, the content inside glowed unnaturally, like it was some captured energy. You’d seen that before, you knew what that was. You looked up at Crowley, your eyes growing ever so slightly wide in surprise. As you opened your mouth to ask, it seemed the demon read your mind.

“How did I get my hands on something like this? Well, I might be personal frenemies with Lucifer and every demon wants my head on a stick. I still am the King of the Crossroads at the end of the day. I have connections with all the right people. It helps me very much if I want to survive another day in this bloody world.” Crowley said. He observed the necklace for a moment or so, making it almost seem like you could have easily snatched it out of his hands and made a run for it. But before your fingers could lift themselves off the bar too, the demon pulled it away. "Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it. I’m not handing over this very generous gift without a little insurance.”

"What do you want, Crowley?” You asked him, your voice growing harder.

“We’re very much like family, Y/N. I mean, if you want to get sentimental, I am the reason why you’re sitting here with me enjoying each other’s company on this fine afternoon. And do you know what families do? They look out for one another.” Crowley said. He was coming from an angle that made you look at him with a bit of a confused expression now. You wondered where he was going with this. "I have a proposition for you. I’ll give you the grace and the spell that will protect your soul from whatever Lucifer wants to do you to you, If…”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him with suspicion, “If, what?”

"Let’s say your moose and squirrel get the job done right. We trick Lucifer into taking the swan dive into the cage. Everything goes back to normal, we all live happily ever after. Well…I’m afraid I might not be so lucky.” Crowley said. You pretended to feel sorry for him at how he had royally screwed himself for going against Lucifer and pissing off his own kind. “I’ll give you the grace if you promise me protection. Just until things calm down and Hell goes back to its natural order.”

“Are you asking me to be your bodyguard?”

“I was thinking along the lines of a knight protecting her king. Has a better ring to it, don’t you think? Very twenty-first century, too. Thought you might like that little twist.”

Your eyes wandered away from the demon for a moment and to the vile of angel grace that he somehow gotten his hands on. It was tempting, almost too tempting for you not to turn it down. You let out a sigh, "What do you want, exactly? For me to kill a few demons?”

“I wish it were that simple. But you know how my own kind can be. Barbarians who just want to see something bleed. I’m not like that. I’m your alley at the end of the day. Enemy of my enemy and all that. We all want the Devil back in his stock. In fact, my delicate ass depends on it. I’ll give you the grace….if you swear your pure loyalty to me. You’ll do anything I may ask of you within reason, kill a demon or two and what not.” Crowley explained his terms to you. You let out a scoff from his description as you wasted not a single second of pushing yourself out of your chair and nearly putting your feet to the ground, but before they could touch, the demon added more gift. “In return of my generous offer, I’ll thrown in a bonus gift. Know all those little demon perks you’ve been having? Telekinesis, black eyes, controlling hell hounds? I’ll make sure you can keep all of it. You can be a demon with the emotions of a human. If you’re dying to have them back so soon.”

“Perhaps I do this,” You began pushing yourself back into your seat and stared at the demon with a bit of a skeptical look, unsure of where you stood on his terms. “Why should I trust you?”

“You have so far, why stop now? Why don’t you just do something for yourself? Make a deal that benefits only you. Those boys won’t ever have to know. It’ll be our little secret.” Crowley tried to persuade you as he began to lightly swing the necklace back and forth. “Take a walk on the wild side, Y/N. Being a demon isn’t that bad. And what do you have to lose? Your soul’s damaged goods to me. But I can make it all better, darling.”

You stared at the pendent for a few seconds longer before you pushed yourself partly out of the chair and took Crowley by surprise at what you did. You pressed your lips against his, sealing the deal for good. Maybe he was right. You had always took deals to help save the ones you loved. Maybe it was time to take a walk on the wild side and think about only yourself.


	21. Two Minutes to Midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of violence, forced blood drinking, angst, Demon!Reader, Lucifer!Reader.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“And here I thought I had all the dumb ideas.”

“Guys—”

“Shut up, Sam!”

You and the oldest Winchester spoke in perfect sync, cutting off any more words that could come out from Sam’s mouth. You shook your head when you looked at the man from across the room at his stupid suggestion Dean paced back and forth, overwhelmed with anger as he continued to rip his little brother apart with no chance of letting him defend himself. The three of you stood in the middle of Bobby’s kitchen, where five minutes you had been discussing something very important, the new lead that you had gotten on Pestilence. Bobby worked diligently in the library, not making much of a fuss when the conversation shifted to a hypothetical question when all of you managed to get the rings. He politely asked what all of you were going to do when you got the key to the Devil’s cage. Who was going to push Lucifer back in where he belonged? And while you and Dean hadn’t thought that very far, Sam did. He spoke those vile words that made you overcome with anger.

“I want to say yes to Lucifer.” At first you thought he was being funny. You chuckled and tried to smile for the first time in what felt like forever. But when you realized that Sam was standing there with a serious expression on his face as he muttered your name, you learned that the young man was speaking the truth. Your first reaction was to over to where he was standing and knock some sense into him. Sam managed to defend himself by saying that someone was going to push the Devil back into the pit if all of you managed to get the rings. And he thought the best fit would be suited for the only and only—Lucifer’s true vessel.

Sam took a note out of your previous idea and said that he could strong enough to take over his own body again when he said yes to the Devil. He would throw himself into the cage and save the day. You leaned against the wooden frame of the walkway entrance and crossed your arms over your chest to create some distance between the both of you. You tried your hardest again not to act on your natural urges when you thought about Sam’s plan all over again while Bobby said nothing as he continued to work.

“I mean, you—you have had some stupid ideas in the past, but this—d-did you know about this?” Dean heard the turning of Bobby’s wheelchair as he approached cautiously to the kitchen to see how this argument was turning out. The older hunter seemed rather confused when Dean asked him a question. “About Sam’s genius plan to say yes to the Devil?”

Bobby slowly nodded his head to answer the question, you let out a forced chuckle as you threw your hands up into the air in defeat at the lack of communication with something an idea big as this. “Well, thanks for the heads up, old man! We just got done talking this one off the edge!” You hissed at the older hunter as your finger pointed directly at Bobby. “And it wasn’t even that long ago I said yes to Lucifer. Now Sam wants a turn? You know, I have a great idea. Why don’t we all just jump into the freaking pit together since all of us are just begging to cut our lives so short?!”

“Hey,” Bobby defended himself against you. “This ain’t about me.”

"You can’t do this, Sammy.” You warned the younger man. “I won’t let you.”

The younger Winchester didn’t react when you pointed your finger to his direction and gave a command to him like a small child. He leaned himself against the kitchen counter and shrugged his shoulders, not seeming to be bothered by how you and his brother were taking the news. He acted like your words were just an opinion, “That’s the consensus.”

“All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion.” You said. But you knew this fight was far from over as you paused the conversation for a moment when you heard your cell phone going off. You felt your brow furrow in confusion as to who would be calling you. The most important people were standing right here in this house. Still, you fetched out your phone from your pocket and quickly looked at the ID to see it was a number you’d never seen before. Before you answered the call, you tossed the younger Winchester a look for him not to go anywhere. You still and his brother still had so much more to say after hearing the young man’s genius plan to save the world. "Hello?”

“Y/N?”

The other end of the line was a gravely voice that you thought you would never hear again. You could feel your eyes widen as you felt a sudden rush of adrenaline rush through your body at who you might have been speaking to. “Oh my God. Cas?” You asked, wanting to make sure it was the exact same angel that had went missing a few weeks ago. Sam pushed himself off the counter when he looked at you with a concerned expression, Dean immediately asked if the angel was all right. You put your hand up to stop anymore questions as you began walking around the house, slowly moving yourself to a different room for a bit of privacy to figure out what happened to him. “The boys and I thought you were dead. Where the hell are you?”

“A hospital.” Cas answered.

“That’s good news. I think.” You said, walking around the house until you found some seclusion at the front doorway entrance away from any curious ears that might want to listen in on this conversation. You sat yourself down on the bottom of the staircase and got yourself a little bit comfortable before asking the most important question that crossed your mind after you heard his voice again after what felt so long. “Are you okay?”

The angel responded with a simple, “No.”

“You wanna elaborate for me, buddy?” You asked, trying to fish some more answers out of him so you could help the angel best as you could.

“I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead.” Cas explained. You nodded your head slowly as you repeated his location, hoping the angel could tell you more information about his situation. “Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimp boat off Delacroix. I’m told it upset the sailors.”

“Well, I’ll have to send them a muffin basket for their troubles. But, in all honesty, it’s really good to hear from you again Cas. You had me worried that you were gone for good. The boys told me about your stupid stunt. You really saved my ass. I…don’t know what I was thinking.” You admitted. You pushed your knees up to your chest as you rested your arm through the bars of the staircase for a moment. “You’ve got impeccable timing coming back from Oz. The boys and I found out a way to pop Satan’s box. And Gabriel figured out a way to make me human..ish. With some added caution if that son of a bitch tries anything, of course.”

“How?” The angel asked, you furrowed your brow in concern when you heard him let out a grunt of pain from whatever he was doing in that hospital bed.

“It’s a long story, but, look—we’re going after Pestilence now. Figured it might be easier get the rings out of the way before we take on another big challenge.” You said. You could feel your fingers subconsciously play around with the chain of the necklace that you were wearing. “So if you wanna zap over here, that’d be great. There’s some echonian that I need translated, too.”

“I can’t ‘zap’ anywhere, Y/N.” Cas said. You furrowed your brow and asked what he meant by that. You had a feeling you weren’t going to like the angel’s answer when he gave it to you just a second later. “You could say my batteries are—are drained.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him. You let out the faintest scoff as you yanked softly on the chain to pull out the pendant that hung off the chain of your necklace that Crowley gave you just a few days ago. “You’re out of angel mojo?”

“I’m saying that I am thirsty and my headaches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it,” Cas told you a few of his woes that he was feeling. You shut your eyes and let out slow sigh from what you were beginning to realize what he was trying to tell you. “And I’m saying that I’m just incredibly…”

“Human.” You muttered the word that he was trying to say. “The price you pay, I guess.”

“Well, my point is—I can’t go anywhere without money for an airplane ride.” Cas said. “And food. And more pain medication, ideally.” 

“Well, look, no worries. I got you covered on that end. I’ll wire you the money. Much as you may need to get her safely.” You said, knowing it was the least that you could do for him. Your finger lingered over the button to end the call, but before you did, you decided to tell him something you wanted to since you heard what he did. “Uh, Cas…thank you. For everything. If it wasn’t for your stupid stunt, things would be bad. I mean, really bad. Not like they’re any better right now. But you helped a few of us stop from jumping off the ledge.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” Cas asked. You could feel a smile spread across your lips as you muttered a goodbye to him, thinking it was the end of the conversation. But before your finger pressed down on the button, the angel stopped you, needing you to deliver an urgent message to someone. “And Y/N, I need you to tell Dean something for me. He said ‘no’ to Michael. I owe him an apology. Tell him he’s not the burt and broken shell of a man that I believed him to be.”

“Odd request, but will do. Just get here safe—” You pulled the phone away from your ear in a bit of surprise to hear the dial tone after Cas decided to hang up first before you could even finish your sentence. You pushed yourself off the stairs when you saw the boys heading over, ever so curious to see how the angel was doing after disappearing. “So, we’ve got some bad news.”

“Is Cas okay?” Sam asked with concern.

“Yes—Well, no. Sort, I guess. Really depends on how you look at it.” You said, trying to form a proper answer. Dean raised his brow as he looked at you with a bit of an urgent face, wondering what exactly you were trying to say. “He’s feeling a little bit on the human side. His stunt to save my ass must have drained him pretty badly. And before we leave, I gotta make sure to give Bobby some of my banking information so he can send some money to Cas. He needs to…catch a plane to meet us here.”

“Great. Just great We’ve got an angel without wings.” Dean muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with the lack of positive information being given to him today. “Tell me you got some good news for us, sweetheart.”

“He wants to apologize to you.”

“For what?”

“"For calling you the 'burnt and broken shell of a man that he believed you to be’?” You tried to remember exactly what the angel had wanted you to say to the older Winchester. Dean found himself tempted to roll his eyes once again as Sam’s face scrunched up slightly in confusion as to why the angel felt the need to apologize over the phone so soon like this. “I don’t know what happened between you three when I was gone. I’m just happy he’s back in one piece.“

"Yeah. Me too.” Sam agreed. “Let’s hope he gets it here in one piece, too.”

\+ + +

You and the boys could sit around all day trying to discuss what the right thing to do was, but it wouldn’t accomplish much of anything if you wanted to get that point with the remaining two rings still out there. War had been the first horsemen you had encountered without realizing it. He was a nasty son of a bitch who had turned one small town into a bloodbath after making the town think everyone was possessed by a demon that was hellbent on killing one another. And then there was his brother, Famine, a crippled looking old man who brought out the hunger inside someone that nearly took down all of you, except for Dean. And Pestilence was next on your list. You were a bit worried about what might come of this after you had followed a trail of dead ends. Brady, the stable boy to the horsemen, had given you his boss’s location after he was stabbed to death by Sam. While you had a winning streak, it was still three against one very powerful horsemen that had more than just a nasty flu hiding up his sleeve.

You patted a hand on Bobby’s shoulder when you walked past him to get inside the backseat of the Impala after he made sure the three of you had everything you needed before heading out. He’d been confined in that wheelchair for months, and all he could do was sit at home, just watching the people he loved go into battle without much help. You could see the concern in his face when you looked out the window for the last time. A small smile spread across your lips to reassure him that you and the boys would be all right. Still, you knew the man would worry until all of you got back to Sioux Falls safe and sound.

“Be careful.” Bobby warned all of you.

You and the boys nodded your heads as Dean turned on the engine. Before he pressed his foot on the gas, he looked over at the hunter to give the man some reassurance all of you would come back in one piece before went off. You let out a quiet sigh when the Impala began moving and down the dirt road leading out of the junkyard. In the matter of hours you would be taking down yet another horsemen. And one step closer to that pesky problem of trying to figure out how to take out the Devil without the result of having a casualty of your own to pay the price.

\+ + +

If there was anything more depressing in life than living a life of misery and emptiness, was to end of that way in the final years of your life in some retirement home after one’s children stashed them there with promises of visiting them weekly or holidays. Only they knew it was going to be near impossible to see them more than once a year. Busy life, busy schedules with their own children who will do the same to them in the future. The common folk can only look forward to jello for dessert and failing health with paid staff that don’t get paid enough to help the patients. And if you didn’t plan right, they could find themselves bunking with an unpleasant folk who spent most of their time whining or hacking themselves all through the night. You could feel yourself becoming overcome with a bit of morbid sadness for the people inside as you looked at the Serenity Valley Convalescent Home.

While on outside the retirement seemed pleasing and welcoming for people in their golden years of their life, you knew there was something far more dangerous lingering inside. You sat the binoculars down on your lap after you inspected the grounds with the Impala parked across the street, the darkness help disguise the three of you as you looked around the place to see if you could find some trouble that might be waiting for you. But all you could see was people in their rooms and an old man being wheeled inside the building by a nurse that seemed innocent enough to the human eye.

“So this is Dr. Evil’s lair, huh? Where the old and sick go to die alone.” You said with a bit of a somber tone. You let out a quiet sigh and continued to look at the retirement home for a second or two longer. “It’s kind of more depressing than evil, if you ask me.”

“It’s like a four-color brochure for dying young.” Dean muttered. He took another look around at the grounds before setting down his set of binoculars. “Of course, to Pestilence, it’s probably Dollywood in there.”

“Great. A whole building full of people. We don’t know who’s human, who’s demon and who’s Pestilence.” Sam said, giving you just a glimpse of the trouble all of you were about to face. He let out a quiet scoff as he shook his head and stared at the doorway entrance, not exactly sure what he was looking for as another nurse stepped out from the inside to help her fellow coworker in with the wheelchair before disappearing from sight. “So what do we do?”

“Hang on a second.” You muttered every so quietly. You brought the binoculars back up to your face when you noticed something after taking yet another glimpse of the property. A security camera was mounted just above the entrance, and if you had to take an educated guess, there would be plenty more inside, striking a possible theory. “You know how people say if you take a picture, your soul gets taken? Who’s to say it can’t show you a person who doesn’t have one at all. Or…we could be looking for someone who’s on their deathbed.Literally.”

Getting inside the retirement home was the easiest part of the plan. You and the boys managed to avoid any staff and doctors to find the security room after wandering down a few halls. Sam waited outside with the duffel bag full of supplies that all of you would need as you knocked on the door before swinging the door open, catching off the guard who was probably starting his nightshift. You gave him an apologetic smile when you caught him off guard. The young man quickly tried to hide his cell phone, thinking that you were one of the staff checking up on him, instead it was you and Dean lingering in the doorway with a bit of a hesitance.

"Hey. Hi. Um, I’m looking for my nana.” You said to the security guard. You stepped inside the room ever so slowly as you spoke the first thing that crossed your mind to make this lie a bit more believable. “Uh, her name is Sophia Petrillo.”

“Go around front and see the nurse.” The guard said, not sure what you expected him to do.

“You mind just helping us out, sir?” You pleaded with the man as you gave him another smile to distract him while Dean slipped himself inside and quietly shut the door behind him to give all of you a bit of privacy. You placed your hand out in front of you as you described the height of your imaginary grandmother to the guard. “Uh, she’s about that short, gray hair, wears glasses and always carries around a wicker purse.”

The guard’s face scrunched up as he began to slowly wonder who you might have been talking about. But before he could make a connection, Dean stepped forward, swinging a nasty right hook that caught the man off guard, and knocked him right out before he fell down to the ground. You let him tend to the unconscious body to drag it across the room while you knocked twice on the door, signaling to Sam that the coast was clear. You leaned against the counter top that overlooked the several small screens of different cameras around the place as Sam slipped himself inside undetected. You could feel a small smile spread across his face when he shook his head, knowing the name that you had made up was a bit ludicrous, not to mention the description alone could have been a dead giveaway.

“Sophia Petrillo?” Sam repeated the name. “Really, Y/N?”

“Picture it: Right now, in this security room.” You pretend to go along with the dialogue of the character you had made up and waved your hand in the air. “It’s the beauty of watching way too much TV as a kid and having no real family, Sammy. You find yourself getting way too attached to fictional characters and pretend they’re your relatives. And what can I say? She was my Italian grandmother I never had. It just came out of my mouth. And I ran with it.”

You and the boys pulled up a chair to gather around the cameras and got started on the next part of the plan. Stakeouts were always a bit slow and painful at the start of it all. You and Sam decided to split the work down the middle, he took one side of the screens, you took the other. It would be a miracle if Dean found himself even remotely interested in helping before he would start complaining. You let out a frustrated sigh as you leaned forward in your seat and placed both elbows on the table, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open as your bottom began to grow numb from sitting over the past few hours with no cycle change of seeing nurses making their rounds and old people being wheeled around from room to room.

“So, what are—” Sam turned his gaze away from the screens as he began to ask you a question. But he stopped himself when he noticed that his brother was more than just resting his head when he propped his elbow on the counter. He reached out and kicked the man’s chair with his foot, disrupting his brother’s small nap. “What are we even looking for, Y/N?”

“Well, War and Famine were a bunch of old men, right? We can start there.” You said, thinking you might have a pattern in what kind of meat suits the horsemen had decided to pick. “And he is Pestilence, so he probably looks sick. Maybe he likes lingering with the crowd.”

"This is a retirement home, Y/N.” Sam grumbled. “Everybody is old and looks sick.”

You shrugged your shoulders in defeat as you crossed your arms to the counter top so you could rest your head comfortably. “Wake me up when you boys find something.”

Of course it was a matter of minutes before you let out a sigh of defeat and stared at the small screens and forced yourself into the torture of watching people go through their nightly routine. Dean decided to stretch his legs and pace around the tiny room for a few minutes before he settled himself to sitting upon the table that sat on the left side of the room. You rubbed your tired eyes as Sam focused on the top right screen where he watched what appeared to be an older gentlemen stepping out into the hallway. While it might have been a doctor getting done checking on one of his patients, it was how the camera was reacting. Sam furrowed his brow as he leaned out from his seat as the man’s face was being blocked out on the screen as it went al fuzzy. Just on his face, nothing else.

You tossed the younger Winchester a dirty glare when he accidentally whacked his hand against your arm while he stretched. At least, that’s what you thought until he got his brother’s attention. You mindlessly looked over at the screen that Sam was pointed at as Dean wandered over, wondering what the fuss was about. You watched as the stranger that Sam had been staring at jumped from one screen to another. While you leaned forward slightly to get a better look at his face, you furrowed your brow to see the screen was growing static around his face. It seemed you had someone who was awfully camera shy, or a horsemen who wanted to keep his identity a secret from a few hunters.

“Oh, now we’re talking.” Dean muttered with interest as to what he was seeing.

You and the boys exchanged a look before all of you were getting up from your seats, knowing damn well this was the lead you’d been sitting around for the past few grueling hours. At this time of night the only real obstacles you had to worry about other than demons was the nurses and doctors working the graveyard shift. The three of you wandered around the quiet halls with a couple of loaded shotguns and the demon knife on the ready. You managed to dodge a nurse here and there while you snuck past hospital rooms with patients sleeping quietly, having no clue what sort of danger that was lingering around them.

The three of you snuck around a few different halls and still hadn’t gotten much luck to finding out where Pestilence was spending this lovely night. But, lucky for you, the horsemen always gave off certain clues when you were getting closer. You turned another corner and tightened your grip around the handle of the demon knife, not sure what awaited you. But you had a feeling you were getting close when you suddenly felt overcome with a dizzy spell that came out of nowhere. You stumbled around until you managed to catch yourself on the wall before you fell to the ground. You didn’t know what was happening as you shut your eyes for a moment, trying to see if this would pass. As you opened your mouth to speak the boys name, you immediately shut it, a wave of nausea threatened to come forth as your skin broke out into a cold sweat. The boys weren’t sounding so good themselves as you heard them starting to violently cough. All of you forced yourselves to make it just a few more steps as you turned down yet another corner.

You kept walking until you spotted a mixture of what appeared to be vomit and blood, along with two fresh dead bodies on the floor that must have come from them. You immediately looked away as you tried your hardest not to succumb to the feeling of being sick yourself. The boys were struggling to even make it another step as they rested against the wall to rest for just a few seconds. You knew something bad was going on from how the room was spinning around you and entire inch your body felt like it was aching and sweating. Somehow you managed to step over the bodies and a few feet before you went crashing face first into the wall, suddenly feeling your symptoms grow worse than ever before when you approached closer to the room.

Pestilence was close, you could tell from how you and the boys were acting. You could feel your breathing becoming more labored as you steadied yourself against the wall, your fevered skin felt a bit of relief when you pressed your cheek against the coldness of a framed picture. You heard the sound of someone speaking your name, but you couldn’t concentrate much. It took most of your effort to open your eyes and see a blurry figuring struggling to get to you. You looked down to the floor to see that Dean was lying on the ground, his coughing turned violent as you saw what appeared to be specs of blood from where he laid. You opened your mouth to speak his name in a concerned tone as you tried to push yourself off the wall, thinking that you had yourself balanced enough to take flight again. But that turned out to be a big mistake.

You could feel your knees about to give out from underneath you from the strenuous behavior that was starting to catch up to you. Before you could, you felt Sam come to the rescue best as he could. He managed to help balance your body against his as the both of you struggled to take a few steps forward to the closed door where you had saw Pestilence go into. You nearly dug your nails into the wooden frame of the door as you shakily pointed the knife to the nurse that opened up the door. She watched as you slowly sank to the ground while Sam managed to stand, catching the first glimpse of Pestilence, who sat on a bed with a smile to greet the three of you. You admitted defeat when your face hit the cold, hard ground. The last thing you had remembered before slipping out of consciousness from the fever was a cheery voice.

“Y/N, Sam. And I’m sure Dean’s not too far behind. Come right on in.”

\+ + +

Everything was hazy and your body felt like it was on fire. You were woken back up from your mild unconsciousness to the feeling of someone dragging you by the arm across the floor until they roughly dropped you back down to the ground. You forced yourself to gather what strength that you might have left and push yourself to your feet. Instead, you felt yourself curl up into what felt like a fetal position, trying your hardest to battle pains that you’ve never felt before. The boys weren’t having a better time themselves. Each of them struggled as they kept violently coughing, trying to go after Pestilence, who sat ever so nonchalantly on the bed, watching his handiwork unfold right in front of his eyes.

“Hmm. You kids don’t look so well. It might be the scarlet fever. Or the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis.” Pestilence said. He pushed himself off the bed and stood over the three of you, continuing to watch as all of you worked through the symptoms he’d given you. He clicked his tongue and shook his head, saying that this wasn’t fun. You looked up slightly to see the demon knife that you must have dropped was nearly right in front of your face. You dug your nails into the tiled floor and pushed yourself just a few inches, but before your arm could reach out a grab it, you felt someone roughly grab a chunk of your hair, forcing your neck to painfully look up at the horsemen to see his blurry, grinning face. “However you feel right now? It’s gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions?”

Pestilence dropped you back down to the ground when you responded with coughing up a bit of blood, making sure it landed directly on his shoes. He didn’t seem the least bit amused as his face scrunched up slightly. He walked over to a table and grabbed some hand sanitizer to make sure he was clean. “Disease gets a bad rap, don’t you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, that’s just describes people who get sick. Disease itself…very…pure…single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose—divide and conquer.” While the horsemen had found himself going on about something none of you were really paying attention, Dean tried himself to reach for that damn knife that lingered in his face. He thought Pestilence would have been distracted, but he was proven very much wrong when he felt his hand being crushed when the horsemen stepped his foot down, nice and hard. “That’s why, in the end…it always wins.”

Dean felt Pestilence press his foot harder when he kicked the knife across the room, leaving the three of you out of options. The man quickly pulled his bruised hand to his chest and let out a groan of pain. "So, you’ve got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy…and weak.” Pestilence’s voice shifted to a much harsher one when he spoke about humankind, and you had a feeling it wasn’t good. But you couldn’t concentrate much as you felt your heartbeat starting to pick up in speed. “It’s ridiculous. All I can do is show him he’s wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now on a scale of one to ten, how’s your pain?”

At this point, while having several deadly diseases being put upon the three of you, there was a moment where you thought this was the end. After taking down two of his brothers, Pestilence was going to have his fun, make all of you suffer and leave Lucifer to clean up his temper tantrum. But the sound of hope came by someone opening up the door, a familiar face that you thought you’d never see again came strolling in. You tried to speak his name, but all that came out after was a violent cough that shook your entire body to its core as you curled into a ball from how much pain you were in.

“How’d you get here?” Pestilence questioned the angel, seeming taken back himself.

“I took a bus.” Cas answered as he stepped inside the room. “Don’t worry, I—”

The angel managed to take a few more steps before he found himself victim to the same punishment of the disease. Pestilence grew an amused smile as he watched Cas drop to his knees and lean over, with a few violent coughs, the floor was covered with droplets of his blood. The horsemen hovered over the sight, wanting to take an inspection of such a rare sight he’d never quite seen before.

“Well, look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless. Oh, that’s fascinating.” Pestilence observed the angel as he began to quietly talk to himself. But it was only a matter of time until he stared at Cas with a bit of a smirk at how much power he had over the four of you. “There’s not a speck of angel in you, is there?”

Cas stared at the horsemen for a few seconds, giving the illusion that he was suffering just as much like you and the boys had been. But the angel took Pestilence by surprise when he leapt up from the ground and snatched the demon knife. Cas pinned the horseman’s hand to the table and easily cut off his finger that held the ring. You could hear a scream of pain come from the man at what the angel had done.

“Maybe just a speck.” Cas hissed at the horsemen.

The nurse charged after Cas for what he had done, and while she managed to tackle him to the ground, Cas plunged the knife into her stomach. You could feel yourself growing better with each passing second after what the angel had done to save the day. Dean jumped to his feet and grabbed the severed finger as Sam helped you up to your feet after the both of you went back to your healthy selves. You let out a sigh of relief to see the third ring hanging off the finger. While this may have been a win, it came with consequences right after.

“It doesn’t matter.” Pestilence stood across the room holding his hand that was growing bloodier with each passing second. But he didn’t seem to care as a grim smile spread across his face. He left the four of you with famous last words to haunt you, wondering what he truly meant by them. “It’s too late.” 

All of you stood in the room, left with three words that could have a million different things. But you could figure out what it meant later. You let out a breath when you looked away from the spot that Pestilence once stood and to the angel that had came back to save the day, yet again. The both of you made eye contact as a small smile began to spread across your lips at what he had managed to do. Thanks to him, you had the third ring in your possession. You only one more to grab before this nightmare was over. But you had a feeling you saved the worst for last.

\+ + +

You were supposed to be feeling victory when you tossed Pestilence ring to the pile of the two others you’ve collected over the past several months. The metal ring made a slight clanking noise as it hit the wooden desk that sat in Bobby’s library, where you and the boys arrived back to not that long ago. You’d gotten the first ring from War, Sam used his old abilities to snag the one off Famine’s bony finger and Cas, weak from his almost human state, managed to slice off Pestilence with ease before taking down a demon. You should have been happy at the progress you were making. But you knew it was going to be near impossible tracking down Death. And not to mention the haunting words his brother said before vanishing from sight weren’t making you feel so positive about this anymore. 

You let out a heavy sigh as you fell into Dean’s awaiting lap as he and his brother sat in front of the desk that Bobby sat at the opposite side of. You felt yourself at least calm down a little bit as Dean wrapped his arms around your body, giving you the slightest sense of comfort from the littlest thing you and him hadn’t done in what felt like a lifetime ago. Cas sat behind the both of you with his elbow perched up on the top of the other desk he sat on top of. Nobody said much of anything. All of you were caught up in your own personal thoughts. You leaned your head against Dean’s shoulder to get yourself more comfortable as your eyes wandered over to his little brother. You found yourself staring at him for the longest time. You tried to figure out how to get him from making the biggest mistake of his life. You wanted so desperately to keep this situation from ending where one of your own sacrificed themselves for the greater good of the world.

“Well, it’s nice to actually score a homerun for once, ain’t it?” Bobby said, trying to be a little bit optimistic when he noticed all the faces staring off into space were full of gloom and occupied minds of other problems that still needed your attention. You looked over at the older hunter and stared at him with a blank expression, wondering why he wasn’t worried about this as you were. “What?”

“Last thing Pestilence said. ‘It’s too late.’” Sam repeated the haunting words that hadn’t left his mind since leaving the nursing home.

“He get specific?” Bobby asked. 

“No. We’re just a little freaked out that he might have left a bomb somewhere.” You said with a quiet tone. You rubbed your tired face at the stress that didn’t seem to be getting any better. You thought once you got a way to figure out how to get the Devil back where he belonged it would have been smooth sailing from there. But here you were, three rings down, and more on edge than ever before. “So please tell us you have actual good news. My head’s about to explode from all this damn stress.”

“Chicago’s about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium.” Bobby said. He reached over his desk and gave you a few sheets of paper that appeared to be weather maps of a brewing storm. You skimmed a few pages before looking up at him, knowing that was only the half of his news. “Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die.”

“Huh.” You muttered as you clutched the papers until the ends were crumbled. “You know, I can feel my headache getting so much better. This is the best thing that I’ve heard since Sam proposed him taking the swan dive straight to the pit.”

"I don’t understand your definition of good news.” Cas said, not seeming to hear the undertones of sarcasm. You looked up at the ceiling and let out a frustrated sigh, wondering how naive he could be after all this time. “Why are you happy to hear this, Y/N?”

You were tempted to turn around in your seat and tell the angel off for his question, but Dean managed to calm you down enough as he gently placed his hands around your tense shoulders to give them a squeeze. The man looked over at Bobby, wondering what was good about this. The hunter rolled his eyes from how you jumped to conclusions without letting him finish what he was trying to say. “Well…Death, the horseman—he’s gonna be there.” Bobby explained ever so slowly, you narrowed your tired eyes and gave him a look from his own sarcasm he was using against you. “And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back—”

“Yeah,” You agreed with another pinch of sarcasm. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Hell. I’m just trying to put a spin on it.” Bobby defended himself.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from the man, your gaze falling upon the bed that you wanted to desperately curl up onto and fall into a sleep sleep. When you woke, all of this would have been just some nightmare your mind created for the sake of it. As you shut your eyes for a moment, you knew this was all too much of a reality as you heard the sounds of breathing that wasn’t your own and Dean’s rough skin sliding down your arm. When you started hunting five years ago, you were expecting to face some nasty things, and discover a few little family secrets along the way. But the more you fell down the apocalypse rabbit hole, the more you regretted ever being born in the first place for the sake of someone’s temporary happiness.

Sam decided that it’d be best to focus the conversation on something more protective. He shifted forward in his seat and stared at the research that the man had gathered while the three of you were gone. Sam found himself puzzled at how the man had gotten this sort of information. “Bobby,” Sam couldn’t help himself but ask out of curiosity to see how he managed to figure out a lead like this. “How’d you put all of this together, anyways?”

“I had, you know…” The hunter went awfully quiet as he tried to answer. You furrowed your brow in suspicion from how he was acting around you all of a sudden at the question. “Help.”

The sound of a glass setting itself down on the table in the kitchen made you look over your shoulder to see who was here. None of you had moved, which meant there was a very unwanted guest here. Out of all the people in this world, Crowley stood in the kitchen, taking the liberty to make himself comfortable in Bobby’s house as he poured himself a bit of the man’s whiskey. “Don’t be so modest.” The demon said. “I barely helped at all.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked the demon.

“Hello, darling. Boys. Pleasure, et cetera.” Crowley greeted you and the brothers as he wandered into the library, but stopping at the doorway for a moment. He sniffed the whiskey to inspect if it would be up to his standards before taking a sip. A foul look spread across his face as he settled it down on a nearby table. He looked at the older hunter, a cunning smile began to curl at the ends of his lips, not wanting this conversation to pause just because he decided to drop by unannounced. “Go ahead, Bobby. Tell them. There’s no shame in it. You’re not the first person I’ve had the pleasure of doing business with in this room. Been a mighty busy week for me.”

The process of elimination was easy. Cas had been preoccupied in the hospital recovering from his stunt that drained him to the point where he was almost human. And it was easy to suspect that angels couldn’t sell themselves to a demon. The boys had been chasing their own tails of figuring out how to take down Pestilence. Dean narrowed his eyes on his brother, but Sam was clean. He would rather kill Crowley than make a deal with the demon. You could feel Dean’s grip around your body tighten ever so slightly as three pairs of eyes lingered on you, wondering what you had gotten yourself into. But you stared dead on at Bobby, wanting to hear what was so important that he needed to damn himself to hell.

“World’s gonna end.” Bobby said. “Seems stupid to get all precious over one little…soul.”

“You two sold your souls?” Dean asked, sounding a bit out of disbelief for what was going on here.

“Oh, Y/N doesn’t have a soul the dumbest of demon’s would want. She swore something much more important to me, I gave her a priceless gift. Remember how I said I could hear all of your marvelous conversations? The two of us had a private conversation of our own to discuss how we can put Y/N back together again. Yours truly pulled a few strings, killed a few fellows to get this.” Crowley said. You could feel your hand subconsciously reaching to touch the chain that had been around your neck, but all you felt was skin. You began to slightly panic as you looked over at the demon. He stood there, the necklace hanging off his fingers. You jumped out of your seat and stormed to him, before you could snatch it out of his grip, but with one simple move, it was gone from your sight. “And I fully intend on giving Bobby’s soul back. He pawned it on me.”

“Well, then give it back!” You commanded at him as you placed your hand out in front of you. “And give me the damn necklace. We had a deal.”

“I will.” Crowley reassured you. You narrowed your eyes as you examined his face, not sure if all of this was some of trick to get something out of this more than just protection. “All will be given back to their rightful owners when you and your boys have the rings. Angel grace, included.”

“Give it back to me,” You warned him for the last time as you took a step closer to him, wanting to make it clear that you weren’t playing around anymore. “Now! Bobby’s soul included.”

“Did you two…you know,” You looked over your shoulder when you heard Sam speak, breaking your conversation away from the demon and to see what he was awkwardly, and very slowly, trying to ask you and Bobby. “…kiss Crowley?”

“Sam!” Dean hissed his brother at how personal he was being right now. Sam shrugged his shoulders from his curiosity at wondering what happened between all three of you. The oldest Winchester looked over at you, his facial expression began to slowly change, finding himself wondering the answer was. “Well, did you?”

Your nose wrinkled at the thought of sharing the same mouth as Bobby if he happened to make his deal official. Kissing someone a friend has was like chewing their gum, their own germs and taste would get into your own mouth. Your mother would always say as some life advice not to go and do something stupid. And it never ceased to gross you out every single time you heard it. You looked at the older hunter with a bit of a skeptical look. Both of you stared at one another before shouting, “No!” 

Crowley cleared his throat, wanting to answer this debate with some evidence. You slowly looked over to see the demon was holding out his phone with a close shot up of Bobby and Crowley together with their lips locked together. The demon was staring at the camera, all while the poor hunter had one clue. You could feel yourself letting out a bit of a laugh. But it immediately died down when Crowley swiped to another one. Your eyes widened to see that it was a shot of you and him, all though it was a bit blurry, it was clear enough to see that it was the two of you sitting at that bar, lips locked. You slowly looked away, not sure if it was because you and Bobby had kissed the same person, or the truth was out there.

“Why’d you take a picture?” Bobby asked.

“Why’d you have to use tongue?” Crowley answered with another question, tucking his phone back into his pocket for safekeeping.

“All right. You know what? I’m sick of this.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He pushed himself out of his seat and stormed over to the demon and gave him a serious expression to let him know that he wasn’t going to play this little game anymore. “Give Bobby his soul back. And if you know what’s good for you, you better hand over that grace to me.“

"I’m sorry.” Crowley apologized to the oldest Winchester. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Dean questioned the demon.

“I won’t, all right? It’s insurance.” Crowley said, explaining the terms of how things were going to work for all of you. You furrowed your brow in confusion to why he was suddenly holding something out valuable enough that could stop you from becoming a demon and turning the man into your own personal stress toy. “You kill demons. Gigantor over there has temper issues about it. But you won’t kill me…as long as I have that soul in the deposit box. And the only thing keeping you and your little girlfriend from living happily ever after.”

You quietly scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest, “You son of a bitch.”

“I’ll return Bobby’s soul. And I’ll give you the angel grace like I promised. Once I see Death’s ring and I know Lucifer can be locked away for good. After all of this is over, and I can walk safely away, I’ll return the property to the rightful owners.” Crowley added one more little clause to your deal that could make or break things. You shook your head and looked away from him, trying your hardest to resist the urge of grabbing the demon knife and stabbing him right here. But you knew it would be no good. Crowley was very much important to you alive, that is, if you wanted Bobby to have his soul back. And you wanted to become human again. “Do we all understand each other?”

You slowly looked away from the wall you had been staring at and to the oldest Winchester that stood next to you. The both of you shared a moment of eye contact together. You didn’t have to say a single world to apologize to him for what you did. Yet again, you made the foolish mistake of trusting a demon. If Crowley didn’t hold up to his end of the bargain, if Lucifer got word of what was going on here, all of you were screwed. Who knows what would happen if the Devil got his hands on you to finish the job of making you a demon…and destroy the only chance of saving the world from his darkest desires, too.

\+ + +

You barely slept last night. You spent most of the night staring up at the ceiling, wondering if this was going to be the last time you were ever going to experience something like this again. Something so simple as enjoying the embrace of the man that you loved. Or sharing a cup of coffee with Sam the next morning before the departure to Chicago where you would meet Death himself. Your mind kept wondering when the normality of the life you had grown so accustomed to, so cushioned to the point where the darkest spots in your past seemed more welcoming than this, would be ripped out from underneath your feet to face the harsh reality you had agree to. The reality in which, deep down, you wanted to be apart of again after getting a taste of the feeling over the past few weeks against your will.

It was like being forced down by someone to take a drug, and while you struggled to push the abuser away, the struggle stopped when the substance runs through your veins and the promised euphoric high sets in. All your problems disappeared, your mind felt like it was at pace when you didn’t feel anything. And to know that the people around you were inferior to what you were capable of. All your life, especially when you were hunting, you felt less of, just a little fly on the wall waiting to be squished by a giant hand. But when you let your true self come out—the person that Lucifer wanted you to be—you felt like you were on the top of the world. But the high could only last for so long.

You always came crashing back down to reality with the effects on your body as your consequences, mentally and physically. You were left feeling guilty…dirty for what you’ve done. What happened to the girl who was petrified of becoming this black eyed monster? You clutched the army green duffel bag close to your chest and stared at your reflection in the Impala window to who you had become today. It wasn’t that long ago you were wondering if all of this effort was worth it. But you wouldn’t let your demons win. She was still in there, clutching to the last bit of humanity, and holding out hope that something good was going to happen.

You pushed the pessimistic thoughts out from your head and made your way to the trunk that was opened by Dean. He spent most of the morning gathering supplies all of you might need for the final journey ahead for all of you. You dropped the bag down and stared at all of the weapons in front of you. You remembered the first time you had seen Dean’s secret stash. You had been overwhelmed, and a little bit terrified, at what you saw. Now you knew the setup like the back of your hand and where Dean liked them placed. Your eyes drifted away from the devil’s trap painted on the interior as your teeth sank down on your bottom lip, quietly wondering why things had to be like this.

“Precious cargo coming through, sweetheart. And I’m not talking about me.” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts that you were getting lost in again as he warned you from what he was carrying in his arms. You saw him come out from the corner of your eye with armful of rectangular blocks that were far deadlier than they appeared. You stepped out of the way to let him ever so gently place down the bricks. He let out a sigh or relief from what he managed to do and took a moment to catch a breath from all the work he’d been doing. Dean looked over at you to see that you were still awfully quiet since this morning. He reached out his arm to gently move a piece of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear, you slowly looked over him to stare at him directly in the eye. Dean furrowed his brow in concern to see the bags and dark circles underneath your eyes that seemed to have been more prominent than usual. “You get any sleep last night?”

You slowly shook your head, “I tried. I’ve just been…thinking. About things, and stuff.”

“What kind of ‘things and stuff’?” Dean curiously asked, wondering what was going on in that head of yours. You crossed your arms over your chest as you sat yourself down on the bumper of the car. You were tempted to give him an honest answer, but before you could get a single word out, you shut down. Dean had his own problems to worry about. The end of the world was on his shoulders, not to mention, his brother suggesting his stupid plans. Your eyes shifted around to the dirt road, wondering if he would forget about it. But it seemed he had a feeling of what you wanted to talk about. “Y/N, you know, if push comes to shove…crap hits the fan and this world goes down burning. I’ll still love you. I always have, always will.”

You looked up at him with a smile starting to form at the ends of your lips from the reassurance that you had gotten from him. Neither one of you had spoken much about what was happening to you, and while you liked to kept it locked up, out of sight and out of your mind–you knew it would only be a matter of time until the levee broke. You could feel the tightening in your stomach as your chest began to feel like it was getting harder to breathe. You quickly tried yourself from crying as your eyes shot up to the sky, hoping that would somehow stop the tears, but you knew it would be a matter of time until they fell.

“I don’t want him to die, Dean. Not like this. Not after everything that we did for him. We’re supposed to be a family.” You couldn’t help yourself anymore when you began admitting everything that had been on your mind since yesterday morning when Sam told you his idea of how to stop the apocalypse. Your voice came out shaky and quiet as tears began to run down your cheeks, faster as you continued on talking, letting everything off your chest. Dean sat himself down right next to you and pulled you into his embrace, letting you get out all of your emotions as you sobbed. “It’s…It’s just not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, sweetheart.” Dean whispered to you as he rubbed his hand down your arm. You knew he was trying to be helpful, but at the same time, this wasn’t some hunt of revenge for a demon. This was the end of the world. There was going to be a bit of sacrifice for the greater good. “But we’ll find a way to stop this. We made it this far. None of us are giving up.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. It just hurts. I mean, things were getting good…” You said as your noises turned into quiet sniffles for a moment. You wanted to be selfish and keep yourself immersed in this little cocoon of hunting. It was cut and dry. You knew what was good and evil. It was killing the monster and enjoying the moment of victory with the people you loved. Instead it was trusting demons and trying to fight yourself to do the right thing. You fell quiet for a moment, as your mind began to wander, you could feel yourself stiffen at a thought. “What if he comes for me again?”

You heard Dean grow eerily silent, almost as if he had forgotten about what you had done. You made a deal with the Devil, not only to become a demon, but be his vessel if the first option failed. He wondered if making deals with angels had consequences like demons. Lucifer found you once before, and if he had gotten word about your extracurricular activities of chopping off the horsemen’s fingers, it might be game over from there. Dean suddenly began to remember the time you and him were sent into the future to see how things would come out if he didn’t say yes to Michael. Cas was human, drained of his angel mojo, you and Sam were nowhere in sight and thought to be dead—but quickly learned that you had been turned into a demon and his brother dressed up as the Devil himself. Dean had been there when you had an argument with his future self to get him to try and say yes.

“He made a deal with the Devil. It was you or him, Lucifer wanted his vessel. And he didn’t get that, you were the next best thing that he could play with to get his answer. I tried hiding you for long as I could. You ran off, thinking you could solve this yourself. but…I was too late. Lucifer got the both of you right here wanted.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Dean whispered as he pulled you even closer and rested his chin on top of your head. He inhaled a deep breath to take in the aroma of your favorite shampoo.

“I wish I was strong enough.” You mumbled underneath your breath. Dean furrowed his brow and asked what you meant by that. “I already said yes, Dean. If I knew I was strong enough to take on Lucifer, I would in a heartbeat. But I don’t think I am. And sometimes…I don’t think I’m even strong enough to control myself.”

“'I’ve survived a lot of things, and I’ll probably survive this.’” Dean whispered to you. It was a quote from 'The Catcher in the Rye,’ a book you had been reading after your mother passed away and tried to accommodate the new lifestyle of not only living alone, but realizing there were monsters in the dark. He remembered seeing the book lying face down with the words scribbled down on a sheet of paper and underlined twice, as if you needed to remind yourself of how strong you really were. Dean wondered for a second if his future self had said the exact same thing while you doubted yourself. Everything seemed so confusing at that time, but slowly, he could fill in the blanks and see how he got there. “We’ll find a way to fix this. I promise.”

Promises are meant to be broken, you thought bitterly to yourself. But you kept the pessimistic burden to yourself as you turned your head to look at Dean. He got a close view of your bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. To him, cheesy as it sounded, you still looked beautiful to him as the first day he laid eyes on you when you were teenagers, having no clue of who either one of you were. He lightly wiped away your tears before cupping your face with his hands. He leaned down and softly pressed his lips against yours, suddenly overcome with the urge to share a moment of normalcy with you. Who knows what would happen in the matter days, or even hours before you embarked on this journey.

The both of you would have loved nothing more than to sit here for a few minutes longer, enjoying one another’s presence and forgetting about the world’s problems, but you knew there was still so much work to be done. Decisions that still need to be made. You managed to wipe away any sort of sign that you had been crying as Dean got himself back to working on stacking the bricks into an orderly fashion so they would fit in the trunk. You and Dean got yourself lost in the comfortable silence that you didn’t seem to realize that someone had watched the scene unfold from a safe distance away.

You leaned yourself against the side of the Impala as you watched Dean work diligently for about a minute longer before you heard another pair of footsteps slowly approach the car. You looked up to see that it was Sam. He didn’t make much eye contact as he joined you in your spot. The man let out a quiet sigh as he observed the junkyard. You slowly looked over at Dean, having a sneaky suspicion that your conversation before hadn’t been private like you hoped.

“Let me guess.” Dean said, having a sneaky suspicion that this moment wasn’t over. He looked over at his brother as he began walking over to the both of you to see what this was all about. “We’re about to have a family meeting.”

Sam let out a faint chuckle at his brother’s humor before growing silent for a few seconds more. He pushed himself up from the Impala and faced you and his brother, knowing this conversation was going to be like ripping off a band-aid. It was going to hurt like hell at first. But soon all of you knew it was what had to be done.

“Look, guys, uh…” The younger Winchester found himself growing quiet once more. He cleared his throat and tried again to make the words come out just right. “For the record, I agree with you two. About me. You think I’m too weak to take on Lucifer. Well, so do I. Believe me, I know exactly how screwed up I am. You, Y/N, Bobby, Cas…I’m the least of any of you.”

You furrowed your brow from how he was speaking so low of himself. Sam wasn’t the weak link here. He was smart, compassionate, strong and he cared about people, even the ones that he had only met once. Sure, he made mistakes and trusted a few wrong people, but all of you had a colorful history that made you who you were. Just because he made a few mistakes of his own didn’t mean he had to throw his whole life away. You spoke his name in a quiet tone as you looked at him with an emphatic expression, but the man cut you off before you could tell him any different.

“No, Y/N. It’s true. It is. But, I’m also all we got. If there was another way…” Sam trailed off for a second as he tried to make a point. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest to keep yourself from speaking some plan that you knew wouldn’t work. It was for the greater good, but you didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want Sam to be right about this. “But I don’t think there is. There’s just me. And if this could help you, Y/N. I gotta take that chance. So I don’t know what else to do. Except to just try to do what’s got to be done.”

“And…scene.” You flinched at the sound of Crowley’s voice breaking the moment you and the boys were having. You looked over your shoulder to see that the demon was standing not too far from the Impala, having witnessed himself of this touchy scene unfold. But he wasn’t here to see the plot thicken with emotional tension. You grabbed the newspaper in his hand when he waved it in your direction. “There’s something you need to see.”

“Niveus Pharmaceuticals is rushing delivery on its new swine-flu vaccine to quote, 'stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak.’ Uh, shipments leave Wednesday.” You skimmed the news article that Crowley pointed out for you and read off the details that seemed important. You quickly looked down again at the name of the company with a bit of curiosity when it struck a bit of familiarity to you. “Wait…where have I heard that name before?”

Crowley waited for the boys to fill in the blanks, but all he had gotten were blank stares as they waited to figure out what was so important about this company. The demon rolled his eyes. “You two are lucky you have your looks. Your demon love, Brady? V.P. of distribution, Niveus.” He said. You could feel your grip around the newspaper tighten as you glanced up at the boys with a bit of surprise. It seemed they were connecting the dots as well. “Ah, yes, that sound of the abacus clacking? We all caught up?”

“So, Pestilence was spreading swine flu.” Sam said, figuring out who was to blame for this outbreak that nobody could medically explain.

“Yeah, but not just for the giggles. That was step one. Step two is the vaccine.” Dean added, filling in the blanks of the horsemen’s master plan that was coming along. You nervously swallowed when all of you looked over at the demon when he asked a very important question that would be the cherry on top. “You think—”

“I know.” Crowley said. “I’ll stake my reputation—that vaccine is chock-full of grade-a, farm fresh croatoan virus.”

"Simultaneous, countrywide distribution.” You said. “It’s quite a plan.”

“They don’t get to be horsemen for nothing. So, you kids better stock up on…well, everything.” Crowley said, giving you a bit of advice for the troubles that you were about to face. “This time next Thursday, we’ll all be living in Zombieland.”

\+ + +

Slowly, but surely, things were coming to their conclusion. Several months ago you were given the opportunity to see what would happen if the brothers continued to deny their true purpose in life—saying yes to Michael and Lucifer. If they failed to do so, the world would crumble as consequences for their selfish behavior. It started off with the croatoan outbreak that turned people into mindless, bloodthirsty zombies. Then society began to fall apart, turning it into a wasteland that you’d seen in post-apocalyptic films and read in books, thinking those other worlds were just fiction. Something like that could never happen to you. But it was. It was the reality that you could be blamed for in the next five years. And that was only the beginning of this nightmare.

The worst came for the three of you. Dean turned into a shell of a broken man worse than ever, hellbent on revenge. So much so, he would kill the people he once tried to protect. Sam had said yes to the Devil. And somewhere in the mix of things you ran off, turning yourself into a demon. The more you thought about it, you began to wonder if there could ever a happy ending for the people that fought this battle for the greater good. Anywhere you turned, no matter what action you took, the ending was going to be bleak and painful. But, like always, you kept going, trying to change the future to something a little bit better in hope you could have the same for yourself one day.

You made your way down to Bobby’s van with another duffel bag filled with ammunition and guns, just a few things that you might need for the adventure you were about to embark on. It was decided that you would ride along with Bobby, Cas and Sam as extra backup. You’d seen the virus close up and personal before. Even though it only required a single bullet to the brain, it wasn’t the humans you were worried about. It was the demons that were going to do just about anything to make sure their precious plan continued on without any bumps that might cause a delay.

You adjusted the strap of the bag as you neared the open van door and got ready to toss in the heavy cargo. But your attention ventured away for a moment and to the angel standing next to the sliding door with a shotgun in his hands and a defeated look on his face. Cas let out a heavy sigh as you tossed the bag, relieving your shoulder of the pain, but it seemed that he had his own that wouldn’t leave that easily.

“Hey,” You turned your attention to the angel and gave him a concerned look, “What’s wrong? You act like something’s bothering you.”

“This is what they mean by the ‘eleventh hour,’ right?” Cas asked. You shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head. You looked around to see that night had fallen not that long ago, leaving the place in complete darkness besides the lights Bobby had spread around the place. “Well, it’s the eleventh hour, and I am useless. All I have is this. What am I even supposed to do with it?”

“It’s a gun, Cas.” You couldn’t help yourself but let a small smile spread across your lips at how he lifted up his weapon to inspect it before putting it back down to his side. “Point it and shoot. I learned how to use it. So can you.”

Cas didn’t seem to find your advice useful as he shook his head, wanting to spend a few more time sulking in his own misery for a life that he might never get back. “What I used to be—”

“You have done more in these past few months than you ever have as an angel.” You cut him off before he could continue on with this self doubt. You gave him a smile when he looked up at you with that sad, little expression. “I know how it feels to be powerless. And it sucks. It does. But what sucks more is letting yourself sit in your own misery, feeling sorry for yourself when you have a new family that needs you. You didn’t rebel against Heaven for nothing. You did it for a purpose. And that purpose is to kick some ass and save the world.”

"All right. Show’s over. Quit pining for the varsity years, you two.” Bobby’s voice coming from behind you made you look over your shoulder to see that he was wheeling himself over to break this little heartfelt moment that was giving him a toothache. You curled your lips inwards to keep yourself from smiling as you stepped out of the way, giving the man direct path to the opening of the van when you noticed that he was coming over with some extra supplies. The hunter decided to make the angel useful by tossing the bag over to him without warning. “And load the damn van.”

You let out a quiet laugh as you began walking back to the house to get some other supplies that you might need. You crossed paths with Cas, who was still holding the bag, watching as Bobby continued on his way without complaint. You placed a hand on the angel’s shoulder and gave him a smile, as if to remind him that the hunter who was paralyzed from the waist down was doing more than sitting around and listing all the woes that he had. The five of you worked together to make sure you had all the things you would need on your separate journeys. Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala as Sam tossed in one last bag into the van. You stood in the middle of where the cars were parked. Ever so slowly, you were about to depart on your own mission.

“All right, well,” Dean headed over to where you and his little brother stood. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him the smallest smile that you could form without showing him your apprehensiveness for this plan. He wasn’t thrilled himself at the idea of running off alone to take Death’s ring, but all of you had to step out of your comfort zones. “Good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse.” 

“Yeah. Good luck killing death.” Sam said. The three of you fell into a moment of silence as you let out a quiet breath from how things quickly escalated in just a few short amount of years. The younger Winchester looked around at the people he was surrounded with to see how the journey had shaped them. Along with a new face that he’d never thought would be apart of this family. He let out a quiet chuckle, making you look up at him with a bit of curiosity, wondering what was so funny to him. “Remember when we used to just…hunt wendigos? How simple things were?”

"Remember how much you guys fought tooth and nail to make sure I never turned into a hunter? It was supposed to be that one weekend, the three of us.” You added a memory that made you and the boys smile for just a second about how different the dynamics were before. But the happy memory only lasted long as your own happiness. It was quick and short, doomed to be lost in the bitterness of the reality around you. “Felt like a lifetime ago.”

Sam let out the faintest sigh, finding himself caught up in the nostalgic memories of sitting in the Impala with you and his brother, fighting about where their father had been running off to as he dealt with the loss of his girlfriend and life that he created for himself. He thought that was the worst pain he could ever feel. If only he knew. Sam shifted his footing, causing him to feel the cold steel press against his backside, making him realize what he was holding onto.

“Well, um,” The younger Winchester took out the demon knife and handed over to his brother with the wooden handle pointed in his direction. “You might need this.”

“Keep it. Y/N’s covered.”

Crowley was making a habit of coming out from thin air. You nearly jumped out of your skin to see that he was standing right next to Dean with a casual expression on his face. But from what he said, you furrowed your brow and looked at him with a confused expression. He handed over what appeared to be a scythe, something Death himself had been associated with in myths and paintings as a reaper. Instead of being made of a sharp blade on a long wooden stick, the hook was made of what looked like rusty iron kept on a short handle. You stared at the foreign object, wondering why the demon wanted you to take it.

“Come on. It won’t bite.” The demon reassured you. You kept your distance from it as you began to wonder why he wanted you to only hold it. “It’s Death’s own. Kills, golly, demons and angels, and reapers, and, rumor has it, the very thing itself. Of course, it comes with very specific instructions. It seems our surly hunter can’t save the day. Word on the street says only a true serpent of evil can do the trick.”

“How did you get that?” Cas asked the demon, his eyes lingering around on the scythe you were holding.

“Hello—King of the Crossroads. How the hell do you think I got the bloody grace in the first place? I get hands dirty when I know it’ll benefit me. And if we want to kill Death, we need to have our lovechild to do the deed.” Crowley explained. But you only stared at him with a confused expression that wasn’t leaving your face. Everyone didn’t understand what was going on as the demon found himself being bombarded with confused faces. He rolled his eyes from the morons he had to deal with. “Do any of you happen to know someone who’s got a badder rep? She’s the bloody offspring of a demon and a human. Not to mention, Lucifer’s lovechild that he plans on using to destroy humanity. The very thing he hates the most. If anyone can do this, it’s Y/N. I don’t make the rules. However, I bend them to my own liking.”

You scoffed and looked up at the demon, “So we’re just throwing theories out there and hoping this one will stick?”

“Haven’t been wrong yet, love. Now, since all of this confusion is cleared up, shall we?” Crowley asked, raising his brow as he scanned the crowd. You tightened your grip on the wooden handle as you looked over at Sam, suddenly realizing in that moment there was a change of plans. You could feel your heartbeat pounding faster when you were about to face a challenge that you weren’t sure was going to work. The demon turned his gaze to the older hunter, who continue to occupy his wheelchair that he needed. What Crowley said next seemed like he was being a dick for the purpose of it. “Bobby, you just gonna sit there?”

“No, I’m gonna riverdance.” The hunter retorted back with a sarcastic tone.

“I suppose if you want to impress the lady. But I don’t think she’ll be swooned. You’re not exactly her type.” Crowley said as he looked in your direction. Your eyes narrowed in suspicion from how he was acting. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact—you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-a clause on your behalf. What can I say? I’m an altruist. Now, you just gonna sit there?”

Your eyes wandered over to Bobby, who still remained in his chair, slowly wondering if the demon was pulling his legs that he couldn’t feel over the past several months. But it seemed that Crowley was smarter than he appeared. You watched as Bobby’s right foot began to do something you hadn’t seen happen in what felt like forever. Ever so slightly, it began to move until it dropped to the ground. Bobby put some weight on it to see if he could balance himself without falling down. But that was only the beginning. You could feel your mouth parting open as the man easily got up on his own two feet. A smile spread across your face as you stared at the sight, like it was some kind of twisted miracle that you thought would never come.

“Son of a bitch.” Bobby muttered underneath his breath, astonished himself at what he just did all on his very own.

“Yes. I know. Completely worth your soul. I’m hell of a guy.” Crowley said. You glanced over at the boys for a short moment of time. If the demon held up to his end of the bargain like this. You wondered if he could deliver just as well for yours. Bobby mumbled a thank you with genuine feeling, not only for the ability to be given back something that he never thought he could. But because he could help you and the boys like he’d always wanted. Crowley, however grimaced slightly at all the feelings that were being thrown around. “This is getting maudlin. Can we go?”

Crowley headed for the Impala, deciding to exclude himself on this heartfelt moment. You didn’t care as you stared at the hunter who you could stare at directly in the eye without having to strain your neck looking down. Now he stood a little taller than you remembered. Without giving a warning, you quickly stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and gave Bobby something that you didn’t think you ever had the chance to do very often, which was a hug. He’d done so much for you over the past several years, made sacrifices to save your skin too many times. As a wise man said once upon a time, family didn’t end in blood. Bobby was the father you never had, but was gracious enough to treat you like a daughter when you needed it the most.

“Guess there’s a change in plans.” You said as you pulled away from the older hunter. You felt a little bit nervous to being leaving the three men to fight on their own. But you knew damn well they were one of the best hunters around. You let out a quiet sigh and looked over at Sam, a small, nervous smile spread across your lips. “Kick some demon ass for me, okay? And please teach Cas how to shoot.”

"I’ll make sure he gets a good run through. And have fun killing Death.” Sam said, returning the smile as he shifted around in his footing again, as if he was trying his hardest to keep the four of you here for a little while longer. You let out a quiet chuckle and looked down at the weapon you held. You slowly grew nervous as your smile began to fade at the challenge that was ahead for you. “When you first hit the road with us, yeah, I was pissed. I thought you weren’t made for the lifestyle. So I gave it a month. Tops. I thought you would grow scared or end up dead.”

“Wow. Thanks for that confidence boost.” You scoffed at the younger Winchester’s words that came off more hurtful than what he intended. “I feel so warm and tingly, Sammy.”

“You didn’t let me finish, Y/N.” Sam chuckled at your response to only part of what he was trying to say. You looked up at him, wondering what he needed to get off his chest. “But I was wrong. You turned into one of the best hunters I’ve seen in my lifetime. You’ve got the patience of a saint for dealing with me and Dean. You kept this family together. And if anyone can take down Death, it’ll be you. Shrimp.”

"Sasquatch.” You muttered his nickname with a growing smile. For someone that was supposed to have a soul that was black as night, you were having an awful fluxgate of emotions tonight. You waved your hands for him to bend down so you could pull him into a hug since his height was so ginormous compared to your own. You squeezed him tight as you could and closed your eyes for a moment, trying your hardest not to let yourself cry at the thought of doing this for the last time if something went wrong. You squeezed him tighter at the thought, he embraced you closer and let out a quiet breath. The bitter thought crossed his own mind. Before he could pull away, you turned your head, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Sammy. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

You didn’t realize the little affection that you had given him as Sam pulled away from you, trying his hardest not to show much emotion as he absentmindedly looked over at his brother. Dean stood there with a bit of an annoyed look on his face from how you were acting, but it wasn’t due to jealousy, but because of how you had no problems showing your emotions. You stepped over to Cas, deciding that you couldn’t leave the angel out of this. You gave him a quick hug and reassured him that he was going to be fine. You let out a breath and stared at the three men, a small smile spread across your lips. For the very last time, you warned them.

“Be safe. And kiss some demon ass for me.”

\+ + +

Nine hours stuck in the car with the brothers had its grueling moments. But having a demon as a backseat driver was your own personal hell. You and Dean didn’t make any pit stops on your trip to Chicago from Sioux Falls, and the conversation barely made it past small talk. Your mind kept worrying about everything that could go wrong with Sam and Bobby. And whenever you looked at your lap, a rush of anxiety would hit you at the thought of taking down the last horsemen by yourself. Dean would reassure you every so often by taking his hand off the steering wheel and intertwining his fingers with yours before lifting up your palm and brushing his lips against your skin, mumbling that he loved you. While the moment was sweet, it would only be ruined by a snarky remark by your unwanted guest. Who could have easily transported himself there with his abilities. Crowley wanted to sit in the backseat and see the experience for himself.

Luckily the car ride was over, and after parking downtown in the windy city, the three of you had finally arrived. You knew Bobby wasn’t lying about there be a storm brewing. The sky was growing darker with clouds and wind was picking up, causing you to wrap your jacket tighter around your body from the unexpected chill that ran down your spine from the temperatures that were low considering the time of the year.

“Hey, let’s stop for pizza.” Crowley suggested out of the blue.

You scoffed and looked at the demon with disbelief at what you heard just come out of his mouth, “I’m on my way to kill Death and you want pizza?”

“Just heard it was good.” Crowley said. “That’s all.”

“You want good pizza? New York has the absolute best, hands down. Each year I went to the city as a kid and made sure to eat at a new restaurant each time. I ate so much one year I almost got sick.” You carried on the conversation without much thought, as if just being around Crowley this past week had turned casual. You looked away from the demon and to where you were walking. But you suddenly found yourself stopping in your tracks at what you saw. Dean furrowed his brow and looked at you with concern. “Up ahead. Big, ugly…building.”

“Ground zero. Horsemen’s stable, if you will.” Crowley said, staring at the same scene that had spooked you a bit. The last time you had seen this was back in Missouri, the town where Ellen and Jo had died. Not to mention, the entire population slaughtered for Lucifer’s sake of pulling Death free from his own personal cage. “He’s in there.”

"How do you know?” Dean cautiously asked, his eyes scanning what appeared to him as an empty street abandoned by a single soul besides his own. 

“Have you met me?” Crowley responded. “‘Cause I know.”

You rolled your eyes and looked away from the twenty pairs of eyes that seemed to fixate on you. Like they knew who you were and what you were intended to do. None of them moved, they just stared at you with their emotionless and cold expression. “The block is crawling with reapers. There’s at least twenty of them.”

“I’ll be right back.” Crowley said. You turned your head to look away from the reapers and at the demon as he began to take a step forward before disappearing from sight. You let out a sigh and got yourself mentally ready for what was about to come in the next few minutes. But the demon worked faster than you gave him credit for when he appeared just a second later, standing right behind you and Dean with some disheartening news. “Boy, is my face red. Death’s not in there.”

“You want to cut the cute and get to the part where you tell us where he is?” Dean asked, not in the mood for whatever kind of games the demon had in mind. 

“Sorry.” Crowley shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute.” The oldest Winchester stormed over to the demon who was starting to casually walk away from a dead end. He grabbed the man by his shoulder and made him stop in his tracks. “You don’t know?”

“Signs pointed.” Crowley said, trying to defend himself best as he could to you and Dean. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”

The demon began walking again, thinking it would be the end of the conversation. But he only managed to make it a few feet before you reminded him of a deal that he had yet to hold his end up. “Bobby sold his soul for this, you son of bitch!”

“Relax. No need to resort to name calling. All deals are sold back or store credit.” Crowley said. You narrowed your eyes as you let out a sharp breath for his cheap excuse that he thought could hold you over. “We’ll catch Death in the next doomed city.”

“Millions, Crowley.” You called out to him, making the demon stop himself from taking a step to remind him how much was at stake here. “Millions of people are about to die at any minute.”

“Demon with a heart of gold. How refreshing. While it’s sweet to see that you’ve got a bit of humanity left in you, let me remind you, you’re not immortal.” Crowley said. “If you want to reap Death, which I know you do, I strongly suggest we get out of here. Or the roles will be reversed. We’ll be out of options and the world will be doomed. All thanks to you.”

You clenched your fists and tried your hardest to control your anger from lashing out at the demon. And it was more than just speaking a few nasty words. You tempted yourself away from killing him right here in this warehouse parking lot. No. His time would come a little bit later. Just like the rest of these poor souls, he would never know what hit him.

\+ + +

You leaned back in your seat and shut your eyes to try and fight this headache that was starting to form in the front of your head. Your stress level had never been this high before, and your anger was boiling inside your body slowly, clawing at your insides like a wild animal, demanding your attention. You pressed your eyelids tighter together and let out a long, drawn out sigh. As you got yourself starting to concentrate on something peaceful, you found yourself being able to loosen your muscles and the pounding inside your head going away just the slightest. But it was only brought back by the feeling of the Impala shaking from Dean’s weight when he threw himself down to the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

“So, what? Call in a bomb threat? Thousand bomb threats? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next ten minutes?” Dean asked. You didn’t respond as you rubbed your temples with your fingers. The hunter looked around to see that you were ignoring him as Crowley disappeared from the backseat. “Come on!”

“Is he gone?” You opened up one eye to see the demon was in fact gone. You pushed yourself up right in your seat and let out another sigh from everything that was going on. When you were about to suggest the idea of making a run for it, you stopped yourself. You furrowed your brow to see that Crowley didn’t make it that far. He stood outside of what appeared to be an Italian pizza place and tried to get your attention by pointing at the door and saying something you couldn’t understand. “Either he really wants pizza…Oh my God. What? We can’t hear you!”

“I said I found him. Death—he’s in there.” Crowley popped himself into the backseat, not taking you by surprise this time. You looked over your shoulder to see the demon was pointing his finger at the restaurant he was just standing next to. You slowly looked away from him and to the man sitting next to you. The both of you nodded your heads before you reached for the door handle. But before you embarked on your last hunt for the rings, Crowley offered a word of advice. "When I said Y/N is the only one that could do this, I meant it. She has to do it alone.”

You were tempted to ask him what would happen if Dean would join you to meet Death, but the demon vanished from your sight again. The two of you stepped out from the Impala and onto the city streets that were starting to grow thinner as rain began to fall from the sky and wind picked up. A crack of thunder could be overheard as you made your way around the car to join Dean. You let out a quiet sigh and looked over at the man. Dean looked at you with a worried expression at where he had to leave you. You tried to give him a smile of reassurance, but you ended up nervously swallowing, knowing it was hard to hide your fear for what you were about to do all on your own. It was Dean who always handled the big monsters.

Dean reassured you by leaning over and pressed his lips against yours, getting you lost for a moment in passion as he kissed the breath out of your lungs. You pulled away when you heard another roll of thunder, as if it was a warning to get moving. “Sammy was right. If anyone can take down Death, it’s you. You’ve cheated it enough times.” Dean said with a smirk. You smiled ever so slightly at his joke, but you still remained quiet. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” You whispered to him.

The both of you gave one another a kiss before you pulled him away, warning him to run for the hills if things happened to go south. You inhaled a deep breath and pressed your hand against your backside to feel the scythe where you had left it. It was time to kill Death.

You crossed the street and found your way into the back alley, no demons greeted you as you pulled out the scythe. This was the moment you’d been dreading. You used all your skills you’d learned from the brothers when you opened up the door that lead into the restaurant. You stopped breathing when you opened the door inch by grueling inch and stepped inside on the black and white checkered floor. From first glance the restaurant was cute. It had a little "Lady and the Tramp” vibe with the dark wooden furnishing and tables decorated with red checkered cloths paired with candles. But what made you come crashing down to reality was the dead body of a young woman slumped behind the counter with a tilted over bottle of whiskey. She was his first victim.

You shut the door behind you and started to make your way forward to see the sight ahead of you. Dead bodies were sprawled everywhere; from a waitress lying face flat on the floor to customers slumped over their tables and into their food. It seemed that Death didn’t like to dine alone. You tightened your grip on the handle as you slowly made your way forward, each step was precise and quiet as possible when you descended forward to the front of the restaurant and saw him sitting there.

Death sat quietly at a table, enjoying the view of people power walking through the streets with their umbrellas that soon would be useless as the sky illuminated with lightening. You nervously swallowed again and took one step forward again, your feet moving in front of you until you were at least twenty feet away from him. You didn’t seem to notice how the handle was growing warmer with each step you took to get closer to the owner of the scythe. You ignored the burning feeling best as you could until it felt like you put your hand on a hot stove. You looked down to see the handle was growing bright orange and threatening to burn your skin if you didn’t let go. You forced yourself to, not realizing the heavy metal would fall straight out of your hands and land on the floor, with the loudest clanking sound as possible.

“Thanks for returning that.” You quickly looked down at the floor to see that the scythe was gone and now at the table where Death sat. “Join me, Y/N. The pizza’s delicious.” It was a friendly offer, but you had a feeling it wasn’t negotiable. You inhaled a deep breath and continued down on your way to meet Death. He sat quietly at the table, enjoying a late lunch. He didn’t look up when he gave you one more command in a calm tone for you to sit. You did as you were told, sitting yourself across from the last horsemen that remained. “Took you long enough to find me. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“I gotta say—mixed feelings about that.” You tried to hide your nervousness by cracking a joke that wasn’t even funny, but you chuckled anyway and flashed him a smile. Your eyes wandered down to his ring that laid on his right hand. The reason why you were here in the first place. “So, is this the part where…you kill me? Because, I gotta warn you, it won’t end well.”

Death placed down his utensils at each side of his plate and finally looked up at you. You began to mentally beat yourself up for saying something that made you sound pretentious when you meant something completely different.

“I know what you meant, Y/N. You die, Lucifer goes back to the cage. If only it were that simple. But, still. You have an inflated sense of your importance. Yes, you’re one of a kind. Something I have never had the pleasure of seeing up close before. It’s nothing of spectacular amazement. Why, to a thing like me, a thing like you, well…” Death reached out to to grab his drink and took a sip. You furrowed your brow when he started to slurp loudly, getting the last of his beverage before continuing on the conversation. “Think how you’d feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky.”

“Well, I’d be amazed.” You said, keeping up what luck you had to make a sarcastic joke that you meant as you gave the horsemen a tight smile. “I’d ask him how it felt to be so powerful. I mean, he’s the cause of diseases that keep you in business. He might be small, but it doesn’t mean that he’s insignificant at destroying millions of lives.”

“Listen with your ears, Y/N. You have a lot to learn about the cycle of life. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that’s barely out of its diapers. I’m old, Y/N. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how unfunny and insignificant I find you.” Death said. It seemed the horsemen could feel a tension forming between the two of you. He decided to offer you a slice of pizza when he put one on your plate and nodded his head. “Eat.” 

You stared at that piece of pizza. It was raining outside, storming harder than you had ever heard in your entire life. Millions of people were about to die…and here you sat, enjoying a slice of pizza with Death. You tempted yourself as you grabbed the slice from the table and sank your teeth into the food. You began to chew it slowly and looked at the horsemen, waiting for him to pull a trick on you, make you choke on your food or something. But there he sat raising his fork to his mouth and arched a brow, as if he knew how good it was. You swallowed the bite with ease and put the slice back down to the plate.

“Well, I got to ask.” You said. “How old are you?”

“Old as God. Maybe older. Neither one of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg.” Death said, not seeming to be bothered at the facts as he cut himself another small bite of food. “Regardless—at the end, I’ll reap him, too.” 

“God?” You repeated what you had just heard, suddenly as if it he was speaking another language you’ve never heard before. “You’ll reap God?”

“Oh, yes.” Death reassured you. “God will die, too, Y/N.”

You let out a breath as you looked around the room, not sure if you wanted to laugh or start crying again from what you landed yourself into. “Well, this is way above my paygrade.”

“Just a bit.” Death agreed.

“So, then why am I sitting here with you?” You questioned the horsemen. “What do you want?”

“The leash around my neck—off. Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That’s why I couldn’t go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up.” Death said. You felt your brow tighten slightly at the situation that was becoming more clearer. “He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I’m more powerful than you can process, and I’m enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum and a wild imagination.”

“And you think…” You trailed off for a moment. “I can unbind you?”

“There’s your ridiculous bravado again. Of course you can’t. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer’s gun.” Death said. Your eyes wandered down to his right hand when he pushed himself forward and placed his elbow on the table, showing off his ring. “I understand you want this. I’m inclined to give it to you.”

You raised your brow at how he worded it, “Give it to me? How thoughtful.”

“That’s what I said.” Death responded.

While you could feel a bit of the boulder that had been sitting on your chest lift itself, you couldn’t help but think about what was going on around you when you heard another roll of thunder and bolt of lightning illuminate the restaurant. “What about Chicago?”

“I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza.” Death said, deciding to be generous today. You let out a small breath and felt a bit of a smile grow on your lips. The horsemen ever so slowly began to remove his ring for you, and while it stood in armsreach, he withheld it from you. “There are conditions.”

“I’ve learned with every deal I make there is.” You said.

“These are different, Y/N. You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell. Whatever it takes.” Dean explained. You nodded your head slowly, thinking that was the plan, but it seemed he thought that it was too close to call it such a thing. “Sam. Dean’s brother. He’s the one that can stop Lucifer. The only one. And before you ask, I know. But there are things keeping him from making the leap. Certain people holding him back.”

You swallowed, not wanting to ask. “Who?”

“You, of course. It’s always been about you. You were the reason Lucifer was unrightfully set free in the first place and started this whole mess. It’s bothered you all your life that you were brought into this world for the sole purpose to see it destroyed at your sake of just breathing. But you want a different purpose for your sad, dark little life. And this is it. One person has to fulfill their role to make sure the world sees better days.” Death said. You slowly looked over at him, your stomach tightening up from what you heard him say next. “You want to save the world? Give yourself to Lucifer. It will be the reason Sam jumps into the fiery pit. Because he think it’ll save you.”

“Will it?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask the question that had been burning in the back of your mind. You swallowed as you found yourself growing eerily silent and staring at the ring which took you months to finally get. You wondered if what Gabriel had said was true. “If he does jump…if I let myself turn into a demon. Is there a chance I could go back to normal?”

“Who’s to say. ‘These violent delights, have violent ends.’” Death took a quote from the infamous play of Romeo and Juliet to answer your question, but you felt yourself puzzled even more at what he meant. “You and I both want the same thing, Y/N. To be free of our ball and chain.”

Seven billion people or one person? You let out a nervous breath at the thought of choosing one person that you cared so much for the sake of humanity. He wanted to do it anyway. What’s wrong with indulging into a part of you that you wanted to have a taste for after all this time? And you had the grace. Gabriel said it might work. It might. Those two words made you stared at the ring for another few seconds more. What if you couldn’t go back? What if this was the step to the future that you had been fighting so hard to stay away from? But if you said no…you would turn into a demon somehow. You would join Lucifer, and in five years, on that fateful night after he used his friends as bait, you would find him once again. And you would use the heel of your shoe to break his neck like a twig. You stared at the ring for a few seconds longer. You knew your decision. But you didn’t want to say it just yet, afraid that he might not believe you.

“Well, do I have your word?”

You outstretched your arm as the other snuck underneath the table so he wouldn’t see. Sam wanted to do this for you. It was only for a little while. The world will be safe, you and Dean could live a life that you never dreamed of. You could keep lying to yourself, but crossed your fingers together, hoping he wouldn’t notice when you did it to him. “Yes." 

“That had better be ‘Yes,” Y/N. You know you can’t cheat death. Not this time.” A look of panic was about to spread across your face from Death’s haunting threat, making you think that he had almost caught onto your childish ways. But you felt a sigh of relief hit you when you felt the weight of his ring hit your palm and the rain quietly began to let up outside. “Now, would you like the instruction manual?”

\+ + +

You’d made deals with demons and Devils in dirt roads and a forgotten motel rooms. Angels who were smart enough to catch onto your scheme and dragged you to rooms with pure beauty that was intimidating and cold like their hearts. Each time you opened your mouth to try and fix something it resulted in cornering yourself into a position in doing exactly what they wanted. If not, a temporary death would be your consequence. Yesterday afternoon you had a talk with Death himself in a small little pizza parlor nestled in the heart of Chicago, talking about the end of times, and what you could do to stop it. These violent delights have violent ends.

He quoted the play of Romeo and Juliet, two lovers doomed for a fate of their own accord when each of them had been fooled into thinking one of them had killed themselves at the result of not being with one another. Death had said Sam would take the swan dive into the pit because he saw it as the only way to save you. Save you from what, exactly? Not from becoming a demon. But to reverse the actions you would take upon yourself to change into the very thing that you had been fighting for the past three months. Your own personal woes that you had been dealing with perfectly fine with was going to be Sam’s heroic courage to control Lucifer and save the world. As if the guilt he had been carrying around after freeing Lucifer himself wouldn’t be enough.

You brought Death’s ring up from the wooden workbench you’d been sitting at for the past hour and to the cloudy morning sky, taking a moment to inspect the silver band. All the horsemens rings were different, and there were very specific instructions about how you needed to place them. Your eyes trailed away from the white stone to your fingernails that’d been neglected proper care for what felt like months now. You clipped and painted them last night to a blood red color that you found sitting in the bottom of your makeup bag that you rarely touched anymore since hunts had been reduced to looking for rings and finding ways to stop the apocalypse. And here it sat in your hands, ready for you to power it up.

Death said the rings had to be formed exactly as so for this to work; you placed Pestilence ring on the top left and Famine’s on the opposite right, leaving War’s golden band in the middle. You placed down the last ring and began to slowly push it forward, watching as the other two were being dragged without force, like it was a magnetic pull moving them closer together. You quickly moved your hand away and let out a quiet gasp when you felt an electric shock come from the rings when they connected together by the stone placed in the middle of their ring band. Swallowing, your hand reach out ever so cautiously to pull Death’s ring from the stack, the rest of them went back to the position you had them before. You were tempted to do it again for the sake of it, but before you did, you quickly looked up when you heard the sound of a piece of metal scraping against the concrete floors.

A smile forced itself onto the ends of your lips when you saw Bobby heading over to where you had been hiding out for almost an hour. You watched as he did something that he was never able to do months ago after he stabbed himself to keep you and Dean from dying. Funny how you can take something like walking for granted. One day it could be all gone. “So,” You placed your hands on your thighs and directed your gaze over to him. “How’d it go at the Rockettes audition?”

“Well, high kicks—fair. Boobs needs work.” Bobby said. You let out a bit of a quiet chuckle as you slowly looked away from the hunter and to the work that had been keeping you busy and away from the four men you’d been trying to avoid. “I walked up and down stairs all night for no damn reason.”

“I was wondering why you looked more exhausted than usual.” You said. You took a moment to look over his appearance to make sure that he was all right. Out of your natural habit, you gave him a concerned look, wondering if the hunter was getting accustomed to his new abilities that he’d gotten the night before. “You okay?”

“I’m sore, Y/N. Feels so good, I’m scared it’s a dream.” Bobby laughed out. You watched as a smile spread across his lips at what he was able to do. You returned the friendly gesture as you felt happy for him, glad to see that something good came out of a demon deal. Lucky for him, he got the added bonus of going to the pearly gates after Crowley returned his soul. “But then I remember that the world’s dying bloody, so, drink?”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” You said, not feeling an ounce of guilt or shame when you twisted off the top to a cold beer Bobby handed over. You took a quick sip of your drink before you put it down next to you. “Want to see something freaky? Check it out.”

You placed the rings to their exact same spots of where they needed to be for this to work properly. Bobby watched as you slowly began to push Death’s ring closer to Wars, the other two followed behind, until they all clicked together. The hunter found himself choking on his sip of beer at the sight which took him by surprise at what it did. You raised your brow, knowing what to exactly expect. Bobby reached out a hand to consider touching it, but he could feel some sort of electric vibe radiating off it, making him back away in caution.

“So Death told you how to operate those?” Bobby asked. “The whole deal?”

“Yeah. It’s nuts. Of course, I’ve got bigger problems now.” You said. You reached out to grab the rings off from the table to inspect them for a moment. Your eyes wandered to the hunter when he seemed a little uneasy at hearing your news. “What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?”

“Nothing good.” Bobby said. He sat himself down on the stool across from you, curious to see what kind of trouble you had gotten yourself into now. “What’d you say?”

You hid a scoff underneath your breath from what you were about to say. You looked around the garage to see if you could find anything to distract yourself from the bit of information that you didn’t want to say. But, ever so slowly, it weaseled its way out of your mouth and out into the open. “That I was perfectly fine with Sam throwing himself into the pit.”

Bobby seemed taken back at the bit of information that you had given him, he thought it more as a prediction for the near future ahead. “So Death thinks he ought to say yes, huh?”

“It’s not even the half of it. There’s one little detail that I forgot to mention. Someone’s holding him back from taking the swan dive. And it’s not you, Dean or Cas. It’s me.” You bitterly chuckled out, reaching for your beer to take a sip before gathering the courage to mention one more detail. “He said the only way Sam will say yes to Lucifer is if I turn myself into a demon. He thinks that this way, Sam won’t have a choice, it’ll be our only option to saving me. But, I mean, of course he’d say that. He works for Lucifer.”

“Against his will,” Bobby pointed out, correcting you from what you had told him last night after arriving back. “I thought he said.”

“Well, I’d say, take his sob story with a fat grain of salt. His brothers were a bunch of dicks that were hellbent on me going crazy. You should have seen Famine and what he was able to do. I still have nightmares about what I did.” You moved your voice to a whisper as you looked away for a moment, plagued with memories of Sam sucking down your blood like a starved man. "I mean, he is Death.”

“Exactly. He’s death. Think of the bird’s-eye view.” Bobby said, seeming to not share the same skepticism as you had with your fellow horsemen. You furrowed your brow as you gave the man a look to show him you weren’t the least bit happy at the kind of conclusion he was slowly drawing himself near. "I’m just saying—”

“Well, don’t.” You cut him off, not wanting to hear another word of this. “I mean, what happened to you being against this?”

“Look, I’m not saying you or Sam ain’t an ass-full of character defects. But…” The older hunter trailed off for a moment, you quickly egged him on, wanting to hear what he had to say. “Back at Niveus? I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another. He must have saved ten people. Never stopped. Never slowed down.”

“He’s a hunter.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what he’s supposed to do.”

“We’re hard on him, Y/N. Hell, on the both of you. We’ve always been. But in the meantime…he’s been running into burning buildings since he was what, twelve? And you’ve only been doing this for a couple of years. But you do it like you have your whole life.” Bobby said. You dropped your gaze to the table to inspect all the cracks and splinters in the wood. But ever so slowly, you looked up at the hunter when he continued talking. “Look, you two got dealt a nasty hand. I’ll admit it, the both of you have a….darkness. I’m not saying you don’t.”

You could feel your jaw tighten at the conclusion he was slowly drawing near without saying it, so you did it for him. “You think I’m gonna honestly turn to the dark side, huh?”

“Who knows what’s ahead of us. But I know you two have got a hell of a lot of good in you.” Bobby said. You rolled your eyes and let out a sigh, having to agree about how much was in that man’s head of his. All of his actions had been done out of care and love. If he were to jump, it’d be to save someone. “You know Sam will beat the Devil, you’ll kick this demon’s side ass…or he’ll die tryin’. That’s the best we could ask for.” You tightened your grip around the glass bottle, to the point where you almost became afraid you might shatter it into tiny pieces. Bobby seemed to have sensed your tension. “So, I got to ask you, Y/N. What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing Sam?”

“You don’t get it. None of you get it.” You muttered underneath your breath, a bitter sounding chuckle escaped your throat as you looked around the garage. You licked your lips and tried your hardest to collect your thoughts that suddenly felt all over the place. All though, right now, you knew the man was getting himself comfortable with the idea of losing Sam. But you weren’t if it meant you had to do something you fought so hard to control. “I don’t want to have this discussion right now.”

You grabbed the bottle of beer from the table and shoved the keys into your pocket before standing up, contemplating for a moment if you wanted to let Sam do this all on his own and forget about this family for good. You could feel an anger, a hatred to Bobby for what he said. It was as if he thought this was a good idea, using you as some kind of twisted motivation for Sam to kick Satan’s ass. You looked away from him and found another spot in the acres of scrap cars. At least with metal, you didn’t have to hear them speak and feel even more useless than you ever felt before about a possible future you couldn’t control.

\+ + +

There was an old saying you thought about a lot growing up until just a short while ago; being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe if…No, nothing would have stopped this. Your mother wasn’t in the wrong mindset when her parents died a few months apart from each other, giving her the courage to leave her hometown behind and quit hunting for good. It wasn’t pure coincidence that your father was cured of his soul for a chance at living a normal life, long enough for him to step into that bar where he’d meet the woman who would be the death of him. There was no wrong timing in 1981 when you were brought into this world in a small town located in Lawrence, Kansas. Two years after Dean, and two years before his little brother Sam.

It was enough time for you and the older Winchester to develop a lifelong bond while the two of you were still in your diapers that would rekindle itself when you were in high school when you would see each other again after twelve years apart. with his scrawny little brother who spent days at your house when their father went on hunts he thought were too dangerous for the youngest Winchester. You and Sam spent hours sitting around and talking, getting to see a side of him that he’d never shown anyone before, and developing a bond of your own that helped him into getting accepted into Stanford. Where he’d met a pretty blonde by a friend named Brady who you met once when “Dad went on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days.” You’d discovered a passion for hunting and impossible it would be to keep a normal life.

A trashed home caused a scare caused you to stick out on the road for a little longer after John made a startling discovery that connected all the dots and met the face of the infamous monster that pulled all the right strings to getting you where he wanted you. Hands folded neatly in front of you begging for demon deals and blood pacts after your own perished too soon. Ignorance caused first kisses of lovers to be shared before being torn apart and dragged to hell. Where you would see the worst of a man you had loved your entire life after you were too weak to save him from this.

Revenge of fallen family members dragged brothers apart and formed bonds with unlikely characters that wanted to see the rise of an unlikely creature. Name calling and belittling turned into praising which confused you into who to trust. Only to find out you were just a pretty face, and nothing really more. The boys got to have all the fun while you had wait and see what they needed you to be next to make sure this story continued out the way they wanted.

Maybe you should start saying everything happens for a reason. “God only gives us problems we can handle.” A old woman had said that to you when you were younger, dealing with the unexpected and tragic loss of your mother while trying to wrap your head around the idea that a demon was the reason why she clawed sixteen marks into her skin. One year for her deals that she got out of him, and a special friend who had no idea what he was getting himself into. And even that was exactly what they wanted. You thought at one point it was helpful to get you through a tough point in your life. The feeling only lasted a short while. After finding out that God stopped listening a long time ago, you started to as well.

You were supposed to be the child that fixed a broken relationship between Father and son after he learned a valuable lesson about life. But you ended up being a mutt who was about to watch God’s greatest creation—humanity—burn to nothing. And if He wasn’t going to get off his lazy ass and do something about it, you would. But not like his oldest friend has said. Anything but that.

You decided a few hours of wandering through the junkyard and drinking the beer Bobby had given you ever so slowly until there was nothing left was your sign that you needed to go inside and discuss the elephant in the room. What were the five of you going to do about that pesky apocalypse? Who was going to be the lucky victim of taking Satan for a ride in their own skin and damning themselves for eternal punishment in the cage as the result of a win that would take every ounce of self control. Which, looking back at your history, neither one of you really had under control.

One drank too much demon blood and trusted the wrong kinds of people, another lost themselves in the thrill touching a side of them that made them feel powerful. Both of you were sinners to wanting something that made you feel strong. In control. Something which you or Sam really never felt like…unless he was high off the blood and you were at your most primal state of being a demon.

Who would win in a fight against the Devil? A strung out junkie who could only be at his best when high. Or a rabies interested mutt who sat ever so quietly with a chain wrapped around its neck, with one little tug, it could break. But there it sat, not saying a word. You might have had the upper advantage of going to war with yourself everyday you woke up. But when you were in the same room as Lucifer, something was brought out of you against your will. The demon side he’d blessed you with came out. You wanted to do bad things, you wanted to join him. Who know what would happen if you let Lucifer in. Worst case scenario? It’d be two against one. And the world would burn like he promised you in the dark motel room after you swore your loyalty to him out of fear to save Sam from a terrible fate.

“You do understand what you’re agreeing to if you take on this responsibility, right?”

“We’re kind of past the point of looking for second options, Cas! This is Y/N we’re talking about. I mean, if this could help her…”

A single pair of footsteps paced across the wooden floors of the kitchen, drowning out voices that quietly whispered about what the right thing to do was. Each of them were caught up in their own personal thoughts, nobody noticed you were standing in the doorway. In the exact same spot where, just a few days ago, Sam tried to discuss his desire to take down the Devil because it was the right thing to do. There was no other way. Now, Sam stood in the middle of the room with his hands placed tightly on his hips and a savage glare. It made you think back to the night you and him had been interrogating the demon Brady, the one who had lead you to Pestilence. The one who happily took the bounty on the sweet, young blonde and burnt her alive to light a fire under the Winchester’s ass and push him back to exactly where they needed him. And without thinking, they were doing it again, he was being cornered into say yes because of you.

“Do you understand what you’re saying? I mean, there’s…” Dean let out a breath as he leaned back in his seat, a look of distraught settled into his expression at what he heard. He tried to think of anything possible to get him and his family out of this situation that was turning darker and more terrifying than he could imagine. “You can’t do that, Sammy.”

“Do what?”

Your voice broke the concentration away from the younger Winchester and to you, who stood in the doorway for almost a minute without anyone noticing until you spoke. You furrowed your brow when you saw most of the expressions beginning to change. A few were because of nervousness at what they were speaking about in private without you. One was of guilt for what he admitted. Sam, however, stared at you head on. His facial expression softened, like he was about to break some bad news. Once again, you asked what was going on, afraid you might have missed something important here.

“We’ve been talking, Y/N. All of us have.” Sam said, being the one to break the silence that was starting to form around the room. You watched as he shifted his footing and spoke of a topic you were all too familiar with. He was going to say yes to the Devil. There wasn’t much arguing in that anymore. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, and getting there was only half the fun. “I’m saying yes to Lucifer. But…there comes complications. Certain rules we need to abide by if this will work right. And it puts a thing or two into perspective.”

You furrowed your brow as you looked at him, “What are you talking about?”

“Remember about how Death said you needed to become a demon for me to say yes? Well, turns out there’s a reason why.” Sam explained the best that he could to you. You weren’t understanding one word he was saying and why everyone suddenly looked away from you, trying their hardest to avoid eye contact with you when you stared at them, hoping they would tell you. But Sam found the courage, he got out with the truth in one sentence. “It’s because I need to…I…I need to—”

”‘For the life of every creature is in its blood: its blood is its life.’“ Cas cut off the younger man, growing impatient at how Sam was getting red in the face with fear. You watched as Cas pulled a heavy looking book he had resting on top of the small table he was sitting at with Bobby, his finger pointed to a small text that you couldn’t read from here. But you had a feeling it was the bible, the holy book who had the answers to everything. "I wondered myself about why you needed to be a demon. But then began remembering about how your people thought it was a sin to drink the blood of a live animal or human being. However, it began to make sense after that. You see, Nick—Lucifer’s current vessel, has been drinking gallons of demon blood to keep his vessel from disintegrating. But it’s not working. He might be an archangel, but he doesn’t have the power of Heaven like Michael has. Sam is the only one who can take on. Lucifer, as the bloodline allows it. And if he were to say yes…”

“For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.”

He would have to drink the blood of Lucifer’s first to become strong enough. It all was beginning to make sense. Why all those children were given blood—why Sam had gotten addicted to demon blood. And after drinking so much of it had turned him into one. Because it was considered a sin to the soul. Because blood was about sacrifice since time began, the very thing that gave people life. And if Sam wanted to be strong enough to take Lucifer as the vessel, he would need all the strength he could get.

You slowly looked at the younger man, that stood in front of you. He’d been on board with this idea. Because it’d been in his head long before Famine showed up. It explained why he froze up in that convenient store when you had gotten stabbed by that man. Because the smell of your blood triggered a desire in him. A hunger that couldn’t be fed until he got his hands on you. Because that’s what was always supposed to happen. And he was going to do it.

“When does it stop being enough for you? All this time we’ve been fighting this… thing inside of us. And all of a sudden it’s the miracle cure that save us all? What happens if you lose, Sam? I’ll be stuck like that. Forever.”

“I know, Y/N. I know. We’ve been kicking ourselves trying to figure out another way to solve this, but we’ve got no other options here.“ Sam said. He tried his hardest to keep his voice calm as he began to pace again from what he was asking of you. “This is what’s got to be done.”

You nervously inhaled a breath as you felt yourself being back into a corner here when nobody had spoke up to your defense. Not even the man who was supposed to be in love with you said a single word. From the look on his face, it was easy enough to see that he was disturbed by what all of this had come to. He didn’t like the idea of his little brother sucking down demon blood. And hearing what Sam had admitted to him after facing the first horsemen had been the reason why he pushed his little brother away, to protect you. But just like you, his hands were tied. This was the end of the world. Each of you had your own personal part to play.

“What happens if Lucifer comes for me to finish the job?” You asked all of them, not even wanting to hear their plans to even push you to becoming a demon. Even if it was a temporary fix. “Your little plan would be screwed. There would be no going back to what he did.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Dean tried to reassure you. You slowly forced yourself to lock eyes with the green ones that had sat by your side, listening to your heartfelt confessions and biggest fear—of turning into this. You could see the pain, the heartbreak from what he had to do. The poor man was losing his brother. And he had to see the woman he loved succumb to the darkness. Even if it was for a short amount of time, he knew you’d never be the same. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Really? The Winchesters actually saving a woman they love from danger? That’ll be the day.” You let out a bitter laugh as your eyes began to glaze over. Not from sadness or fear of the unknown. But anger. Pure, raw anger. You let out a slow, shaky breath as you stared at the two brothers. “A woman has always been an excuse for you Winchesters to turn your life upside down and go after some half-assed plan for revenge. When Mary died, John tore you two apart. After Jess—Oh, Sammy’s gotta find out what killed her! And Dean. Feels good to be right, huh? Guess I am making the both of you say yes. But you know what I’m not saying yes to? Becoming something that I have spent my entire life trying to avoid. If this worlds ends because of my choice, well let it end! If Lucifer wants to fight his brother so badly, well, then we knows where to find me. We still got Plan B on the table.”

You didn’t want to hear them beg, you didn’t want them to tell you that the fate of the world was resting on your backside. Like the three of you did anything you were told to do so. Your last remark was meant out of pure sarcasm. You jaw tightened as you let out a heavy sigh from seeing the four faces that dare even spoke such an idea to you. Just quickly as you entered the house were stomping off, disappearing to somewhere the boys would find out eventually. The last noise either one of them had heard was the slamming of the front door for the next few minutes.

Nobody said anything, nobody dared look at one another in the eye for what they discussed over the past few hours. But for them it felt like a lifetime trapped in the house. It took every ounce of energy for them to come to this point. You would be okay with it. Someone finally broke the silence. Dean looked away from the wall he’d been focused on and stared at his brother. Both of them forced themselves to look at one another, to see they were choking down their emotions at how this had to be. You could hate Sam all you want until the day you died—but long as you made it out alive, that’s all he wanted. He wanted to save one more person. He wanted to save you. He wanted to save his brother from living the life their father forced upon them. You and Dean had died to save him, now it was time to return the favor.

But happiness comes with a price. Whether it’d be selling your soul for a working pair of legs, or letting someone cool off for a few minutes. And…you don’t always get what you want. A piercing scream they heard echo through the air made sure to deliver that message loud and clear.

\+ + +

"To make a prairie, it takes a clover and one bee,” The world has so much to offer, and it was changed so much since he was allowed to walk free. They destroyed the beautiful landscape his Father had spent creating for them. For his children. Not them. If he thought there was a lot of them before, they’ve multiplied by the billions. They’ve destroyed everything just to survive and claim land that wasn’t rightfully theirs. They murdered, tortured, raped, belittled—destroyed anything which was different to their unrealistic standards that made so such sense. But amongst all of its ugliness, there was beauty. “One clover,” Lucifer drew the knife away from her throat and pointed it at himself. “One bee. And revery.”

Beauty could be found in flowers he’d never seen in the garden of Eden, works of art that was portrayed in oil paintings or buildings that were taller than any human, literary works that he devoured when he hid away in his decoying vessel away from the world. He started off exploring the extensive library inside your home. He wanted to know who you were. He wanted to know the person you became. But that wasn’t enough. Lucifer discovered art, books of complex ideas and fictional worlds he was hold humans used to find some meaning in their life. Music was something of a majestic discovery. It could make someone feel a certain emotion. Love songs were a personal favorite of the Devil.

“The revery alone will do,” Lucifer recited a poem as he stood in the middle of an abandoned church with its windows boarded up and glass stained windows that depicted of a holy world before broke into tiny pieces of color on the floor. The pews were empty of any sinners that prayed to a God that would never listen. God wouldn’t give them salvation, but the Devil will help. For a price. Give yourself to your new Lord and Savor, Lucifer. If you do so, you will be granted with anything your heart may desire. For a price. People will find any measure to take it. Instead of hurting a fellow soul, why not sell yours? Kiss the black eyed fool who will grant you any desire you want. For eternal misery in Hell. Humans were a stupid breed. Lucifer was going to make sure they were a dying breed, too. “If bees are few.”

He left the exact same poem written messily on a sheet of paper and left it hanging on a wooden beam that supported the roof which helped you keep dry from the rain that became to softly trickle down. The demon knife you had pulled on him pinned it into place for them to find. Just as he did for the younger Winchester when he discovered you were gone. Lucifer hoped things wouldn’t have come to this. He was so close to. But you were much stronger, he was wrong to doubt your willpower. And here he thought you knew you. He created you, after all. But everyone had a few character flaws. Katerina did. And she was a struggle to turn when he told her of his plans. But unlike before, Lucifer was much weaker. He had to do this the hard way. It would take a few steps, and it might take a bit long longer… all of you would get there together.

Lucifer rested his chin on the demon’s shoulder he stood behind of with the knife to her throat and gave you a sympathetic expression. He could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as your blood rushed through your veins. A thin layer of sweat covered your skin from how you woke up. This wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he was out of options. His vessel was disintegrating, You were being stubborn. And it was time for your human side to leave. He didn’t need you anymore. He wanted the demon side that you had buried in your conscious. There was one way to turn someone into a demon. And that was from blood. Copious amounts of it. When Lucifer pressed the blade harder against the demon’s throat, you tilted your head back and opened your mouth. Ready for every drop he was about to give you. The plan you and him had drawn out together was coming along perfectly.

\+ + +

It’d been two days since they had seen you. Since that stupid poem was left. Nobody slept, there had been nibbles of food in between consumption of coffee and beer while going through every lead they had stumbled upon, every possibility to what was going on here. Sam checked the GPS on your phone every hour on the hour, Bobby called every hunter he could think of while Cas shuffled through newspaper articles and weather maps that could pinpoint heavy demon activity. The only one who hadn’t done much was Dean. He was caught up in his own vulnerable thoughts…his head kept replaying the memory. That damn scream kept repeating itself his his head over and over again. Each time it played, no matter if it was the hundredth time, it never stopped a shiver from running down his spine in pure horror of what he let happen. He’d been so freaking close.

Dean roughly clenched his fists with the rings still in his palm, and not once did he flinch when the metal dug painfully into his skin, drawing up some blood when he released his tense muscles. The man just stared at the rings with little reaction. He was too tired to care about what he did. He felt exhausted, but sleep would never come to him. The nightmares didn’t come when he closed his eyes. He just had to look at the man who was supposed to his baby brother, the one he’d spent his entire life trying to protect from the evilness of this world. Dean swallowed as he thought about you, the woman that he loved—the same one who had been told was his soulmate. He was supposed to protect you and Sam. That’s what he was raised to do. Dean looked over his shoulder and stared at the empty seats of the Impala.

“Remember when we just used to…hunt wendigos? How simple things were?”

Dean’s answer might have been no at the time before they left. But as he stared at those empty seats all of you had religiously picked as your own, his head began to unwillingly fill up with old memories of the times back on the road. “Dad has been on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.” Those two sentences changed their lives forever.

It felt like a lifetime ago he was being hounded by you and his brother of his very tasteful classic rock collection of tapes he’d kept in a box underneath the passenger seat and his brother had debated the idea their father was dead. Back when all of you were a team full of young twenty something adults just trying to save the common folk from vengeful spirits and demons. The only real problem the three of you faced had come in the form of nightmares. How many nights did you wake up in a cold sweat from the idea of turning into a demon? His brother thought his little premonitions were the worst thing that could have happened to him. Dean started to let out a chuckle but he immediately stopped himself, afraid that if he kept going, the happy noises would turn into a broken sob.

Sammy, his baby brother, was going to take the swan dive, dooming himself for an eternity of misery and punishment that he never deserved. You, the woman that everyone loved and tried desperately to find, was out there all alone. Despite all of their best efforts, time was running out. Dean’s three days that he had pleaded for were going faster without a trail he could keep hope out for. Sam was ready to leave the second you disappeared. All of them knew where you had ended up. But the oldest Winchester kept some hope that you were stronger. That you could fight your way out and find your way back to him without turning into what you had feared all those years ago.

“He still out there?”

Bobby’s voice broke the younger Winchester’s concentration away from the kitchen window he’d been staring out for the past fifteen minutes. Sam nodded his head as he let out a quiet sigh as he forced himself to look away from his distraught big brother and to the same sight that hadn’t changed much in the past forty-eight hours. Cas kept his head down as he shuffled through papers and Bobby wracked his brain for different hunters he could call. Sam, however, felt his grip around the coffee cup he’d been holding grow tighter as he let out another sigh. Bobby lifted his gaze from the phone when he heard the noise. He knew when the younger Winchester did that, he was about to say something stupid.

“Bobby, look—”

“We promised your brother three days, Sam.” Bobby cut off the man, not wanting to hear any of this scheme that had been brewing in the young man’s head. The hunter knew this was going to end bloody and full of tragedy. But he could stop himself from losing one less person if he kept out hope for a little longer, than he would. “I think we might be onto something. Cas found some heavy demon activity in Michigan.”

“Let me guess, Detroit?” Sam asked, taking a wild guess of where the location might be. Bobby nodded his head slowly, he was hoping the man wouldn’t have made the connection, but from the look that spread across the young man’s face, he knew it was inevitable. All of them knew it was ground zero, where all of their hopes and dreams went to die. Sam could clenched his jaw until settled a painful ache in his teeth from what he’d done. It was better than throwing his cup across the room to see it shatter into tiny pieces. “Why are all of us still standing here? We know what’s gonna happen. The quicker we get there, the more of a chance we can save her. That is, if…”

Bobby could feel his face hardened as he warned the younger man not to dare speak those kind of words in his household, “Sam, don’t you—”

“If she’s not already gone, Bobby. Then all of this would have been a wasted effort for nothing.” Sam managed to finally get the words that had been eating him alive over the past few days out from his head. He let out another sigh when Cas finally looked up from his unimportant papers as Bobby’s expression changed more of a sullen one. “Look, I get it. You wanna keep holding out hope that there’s some other kind of lead that can help us find Y/N. We all want that. But what if we’re too late? Without the grace, we’re screwed. That was our only chance at making sure she didn’t fully turn. He’s got her, I know it.”

Bobby and Cas exchanged a pair of familiar looks from what the younger Winchester had said, but neither one of them dare speak a single word to keep this conversation going. Because they knew it was the truth. Sam looked down at his cup to feel that it was growing cold from neglecting it for almost twenty minutes after he poured himself a cup. Instead of throwing it across the room like he previously wanted to, he gently placed the cup down onto the table and snatched his jacket from an empty chair. Sam muttered something about needing air, Bobby knew where the man was really going. He watched from the same kitchen window as Sam made his way across the junkyard and to the Impala, where his brother had been for a majority of the past few days.

The Winchester brothers exchanged a simple glance to one another before each of them found their own spots to stare off mindlessly, keeping away any sort of unwanted conversation just yet. Each of them tried to think of different aspect of this fight. Dean tried to figure out ways that he could get angry at his brother, hoping it would stop the pain. Sam wondered what he could say to everyone that would get them to finally change their minds. After a few seconds the both of them slowly started to look at one another with eyes glazed over with tears. Funny thing was, neither one of them started to cry, instead, Dean found himself letting out that chuckle again.

“I keep thinking I’m gonna see Y/N step out of the house with that stupid grin on her face. You know the one that she gets whenever she finds something? She’ll come down here and tell us our idea before was so freaking stupid.” Dean found himself running off at the mouth of his own personal fantasy as a small smile of his own stretched across his lips. He stared at the porch steps imaging that you were standing there with a book in your hand a slight scowl on your face. Because you found something that wouldn’t make Sam leave. Dean tried his hardest not to let his chuckles turn into sobs, but this time, it was inevitable. “I can’t do this, man. I…I can’t do this without her.”

“We’ll get her back. I promise.” Sam tried to reassure his brother as the both of them struggled to keep their emotions in check. He sniffled and looked down at his feet, a small scoff fell out from his mouth at how much he realized he needed you until now. “Remember the time I ran off to California to find Dad? You and I had that big fight in the middle of the road. You were ready to let me leave…but Y/N made sure to tell me what an idiot I was.”

"She ripped me a new one God knows way too many times.” Dean said. He felt himself growing a smile at an old memory that was from only a few years ago, but he should have known than to disrupt you when you were upset. And it always circled back to how one brother treated another. You never favored one brother over the other. At the end of the day, the both of them were your only family. And they were asking something of you that pushed you over the edge. But now the worst they had feared was coming true. “Y/N’s a fighter. Out of anyone, she can beat whatever that son of a bitch tries.”

Sam let out a quiet sigh, “What if she can’t?”

“Are you doubting me, Winchester?”

The boys nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard a voice come out from thin air. It belonged to someone they thought wouldn’t have seen so soon. At first they thought it was some kind of twisted joke their head was playing with them. But it wasn’t. Sam pushed himself off the Impala and turned around, coming face to face with you. Your lips stretched into a wobbly smile as you took a step forward. Sam’s eyes were drawn away from your face as they slowly moved down to your clothing, and the dried blood that was soaked through your shirt and jeans. His head began to run around with ideas of what was going on, and who’s blood it belonged to. Dean found himself fixated on the sight, and as his mouth opened up to what happened to you, his brother reached out and grabbed him by his arm, refraining him from taking a step forward to you. Sam smell it…the demon blood running through your veins.

You parted your mouth slightly to show off your blood stained teeth, your mouth licked away any that had dried any on your lips before you sank your teeth down onto the flesh. Your head tilted to the side, a look of curious amusement crossed your face when the brothers stared at you with terror, possible confusion to what was going on. You decided to give them an answer when you blinked, showing off your demon eyes they wanted so hard to see on you. But this wasn’t done just yet. There was one more crucial step.

Suddenly, you were bent over with a groan of pain escaping your mouth as your hands clutched your head from the sudden pounding sensation overcoming you from what you were doing. Your breathing turned into heavy pants as you forced yourself to stand up, just enough for you to look at the boys with a pleading expression. The only words you managed to say to them was, "Help me.”

\+ + +

“You sure this is gonna work?”

“Does it look like I have the instruction manual?“

Your eyes jumped back and forth as the two hunters exchanged a few questions as you sat in Bobby’s living room, tied down to a chair and properly secured underneath the devil’s trap so you wouldn’t go ballistic. Your gaze wandered away from the two men as they focused on the small pendent that Crowley had given you right before he disappeared, never to be seen again. It was a long shot, but it was the only plan they had left. Whatever happened to you…Whatever Lucifer did, it was doing the trick. But you wouldn’t talk about it. You just wanted this to be over. It was tiring enough to stop yourself from saying something you would regret. Sometimes you could bite your tongue. But most of it slipped out. Like how a chuckle started to roll out, soft and slow, but slowly, it build up to a laughter as you stared at the three hunters and their little angel who was supposed to stop the apocalypse.

"The fate of my humanity rests on an angel without wings and a couple of backroad hillbillies. Gosh, I’m such a lucky gal. And to top the fun off, I get to be sucked dry by you, big boy.” Your eyes flickered back as you looked over at Sam, who had been quietly in his little corner of the room, trying to get away from you. His arms were crossed over his chest as he tried his hardest not to stare at you. But from the way that his nostrils were flaring and his forearms were looking much tenser than usual, he could smell the blood from here. Your lips stretched into a smirk. “I smell good, don’t I? Can’t wait to just slit my throat and get a taste, huh?”

"We need to hurry.” Cas warned the two hunters as he turned his back to you, not liking your progress of how the demon blood that Lucifer had fed you was turning. “She’s changing—and fast. I’m afraid if we don’t do this soon, the effects might be permanent.”

This was the moment all of them had been dreading. Cas nodded his head when Dean forced himself to hand over the pendent that held the grace and to the angel who knew what he was doing. Without warning, the angel dropped the small pendent to the ground and broke the small glass container until small pieces. If he had done this with any other angel grace, it would have found its way to the rightful owner of who it once belonged to. But it took a spell the angel had remembered using only a few times before to make this work. He watched as the energy flew around the air, all before making its way down your throat, causing your eyes to bulge out and let out a muffled noise, like you were choking. Your arms automatically tried to lift themselves from the armrests, but your hands waved around. The boys grew worried as each of them watch you struggle, making it seem your body was trying to regret it. But slowly…you stopped moving.

Your eyelids grew heavy as your body slumped forward into the chair, making the three men and the angel fall into a moment of silence. Gabriel said this was supposed to protect your soul. Cas didn’t think the demon blood would have changed your soul. Each of them watched as you didn’t move for a minute or so, making them worried what was going on. Ever so slowly, Dean watched as one of your fingers twitched, setting off a chain reaction just a few seconds later.

“Y/N?” Sam was the one to speak your name, wondering if this would actually work. He could feel his breathing turn quieter as you twitched slightly at hearing your name. He took a small step forward, his arm outstretched itself in front of him as he reached to touch you ever so gently. He tried making a joke, thinking that it was safe. “Are you in there, Y/N?”

He should have known. All of them should have known not to mess with the Devil. Because they could never stop what was about to happen. He heard the sound of the ropes that held you snap like that, and before he realized it, he was staring at you at eye level with your hand to tightly wrapped around his throat, he was already struggling. Your lips stretched into a devilish smirk as you dug your nails into his skin.

“Y/N doesn’t live here anymore.” You quietly whispered to him with a playful, yet venomous tone as you spoke to him with clenched teeth. You leaned forward to him until you were mere inches from him, letting him watch as your eyes flickered black. “At least, not up front. She’s being a good girl and staying quiet so we can have a nice, long talk. Just you and me, Sammy.”

Your head turned to the three men that had been pinned into place, you pretended to give them an apologetic look before you snapped your fingers with your free hand, making each of them take a corner of the room. You slowly looked over at the man when you pushed him to the ground and stepped out from the devil’s trap. You brushed down your wrinkled and sticky clothes as you began looking around the room, your nose scrunched up slightly at the decor. As you looked back down at the man who hadn’t moved from the floor, you noticed that he stared at you with a disturbed look. Unsure of who he was speaking to. You placed your hand on your chest, pretending to feel offended as your eyes went back to normal.

“Don’t recognize an old face, Sam? Well, this is a new vessel. Taking out for a test spin after she gave me permission. Have yet to see if I really like it.” Sam could feel his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he began to back away with his elbows on the floor when he realized who it was. You rolled your eyes when he hissed out a command to get out of your body. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m just here to finish up a few loose ends. You made my job a hell of a lot easier. Y/N’s a complex creature. She’s a hell of a lot stronger than I thought. I need to poke at her sou at more of a…personal level. Get inside that head of hers. Destroy whatever humanity she’s holding on to. You see,“ You suddenly stopped in your tracks as you flinched, almost like you were fighting something inside of you. You slowly opened your eyes to show they were black again. Sam watched as you walked over to him, all before you swung one leg over his body, and you dropped yourself onto his waist to pin his body into place. "I’m the one who really wants to talk to you, Sammy.”

“Y/N,” Sam tried his hardest to ignore the black eyes that were staring at him and called out to the person who was his best friend, the person trapped in her own skin as Lucifer poked at her soul until it was black as the eyes that were staring at him. “Y/N, you can fight this. Come on.”

You ignored his pleas as you reached out to pull something from your boot, Sam’s eyes wandered to what appeared to be a switchblade. He thought you were going to attack him, but instead, you slit your wrist with it. You cut yourself and forced the bleeding wound to his mouth.

“Is this what you want, huh? Drink it all, Sammy. Drink it…just like what Lucifer did to me. It scared me at first. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” You told him a bit of the truth in a dark, low tone as you forced him to taste the blood that was rich with the ones of the demons that Lucifer slaughtered for you to drink. Sam managed to overpower you by grabbing a hold of your wrists and threw you to the floor. His mouth was stained with your blood, but he didn’t allow himself to taste any of it as he spit out the contents to the floor. Much as he wanted to. You sat on the floor, you didn’t fight or say anything mean. You just sat there…looking at him with a smile as you shook your head. “I know you want it. I can hear your heartbeat from where I am. Just like how you wanted Ruby. You can fight it all you want, but you know you’re gonna come crawling back. It’s how all of this was always meant to be. You, me and the Devil.” 

Sam blinked, and just like that, easy as you had come back, you were gone. The man’s eyes darted around the room as he tried to look for you anywhere that he could. He could feel his heartbeat kick up faster in rhythm when he noticed there was no trace of you, besides the blood that stained the floors. You were gone. They tried so hard…tried every possible way to save you, but you were gone. Sam slowly dragged his gaze away from your blood that make to make his mind swim with old feelings that he hadn’t touched in a long time. Dean stared at the sight of once where you sat, all hope that had been in his face was gone. It was all over.

Each of them had tried so hard to make this right. You tried so hard to stop your fears from coming true. So many dead ends and sleepless nights, years of battling monsters and taking down people that had did you wrong. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be good enough.

Sam slowly shut his eyes, trying his hardest not to let out a yell from what was happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His nails dug into his skin when a chilling thought crossed his mind. And how they were slowly beginning to come true. "These violent delights, have violent ends.”


	22. Swan Song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Demon!Reader, mentions of violence, manipulation to the reader, character deaths, attempted suicide. (Not exactly what you think.)

[Excerpt taken from: “Swan Song” By Carver Edlund.]

On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville—a blue two-door Caprice.

There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car—no, the most important object—in pretty much the whole universe.

She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he’d drive around giving Bibles to the poor ‘gettin’ folks right for Judgment Day.’ That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did, I bet they’d smile. Y/N, well, she might find the man’s favorite pastime of spreading the word of God a bit wasteful. As he was in need of one himself real soon after he gotten himself comfortable with the bottle. But, when nobody was looking, she would crack a smile herself.

After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a couple of friends. I guess that’s where this story begins.

And here where it ends.

This story ends with three people nobody really knew who would be so important to this world—Team Free Will. It was a cheesy name they called themselves over a round of some cheap beer. Dean, a high school dropout with six bucks to his name. Sam, the ex-blood junkie. Cas, who couldn’t participate in the sullen loss, but he was given the nickname of Mr. Comatose. (When told the name he was given by Y/N, the angel was all but baffled.) And Y/N, Rosemary’s Baby…all grown up. These people were the reason why this world wasn’t going to end in misery. But they didn’t do it alone. They had help of some unlikely friends they gained along the way.

Some are still here to see this journey through whatever end waits for them, others have had their time cut too early. Death is a scary ending for anyone. But it’s nothing new for the Winchester brothers and their best friend. They have been to Heaven and Hell, saw death as a lesson from a rouged archangel who posed as a trickster since the beginning of time. Y/N even split a pizza with Death himself not too long ago. The three of them still remain. Two brothers and their best friend, lost in separate parts of the world…not quite sure how they ended up here. But there was no plans of stopping here.

The Winchester brothers have always had a close family bond. Dean practically raised his little brother as his own with a father that was absent most of the time, not there to answer a six year old’s question about why they moved around so much. Mostly it was about why they didn’t have a mother. Or why they changed schools so much. Dean did the best that he could. Sure, he was tough on the guy. He was upset when he left for Stanford, fell down a path that wasn’t right for him. But it was all out of love. And even when there was a moment of time where he wanted to give up on it all, there was someone holding the Winchesters brothers together. Someone who would die for them, instill a positive speech when Dean wasn’t quite feeling up to it himself. And place a slap across the cheek, if necessary.

According to John Winchester, Y/N was a spitting image of her mother—not just in looks, but with a personality to match. She cared too much for people she didn’t know and got herself lost in a world that once scared her after realizing the things in the bump in the night were real. Once she took it as a compliment, but after getting to know the real Ella Y/L/N, she slowly started to despise her. However, it never lasted for too long. Parents like John and Ella were doing the best they could considering what they knew…what they brought upon them.

\+ + +

Sam Winchester sat on the hood of the Impala and observed the scenery that brought him peace and quiet for the past half an hour. The scrapyard that Bobby called a business was a sore eye from all the crushed cars and dirt roads that lead to nowhere, but it was better than staring at some dusty book, wondering if there was any other way to stop this. He was pretty sure not too long ago there was a way to make sure that at least a few people were able to have a happy ever after. Now…he wasn’t so sure anymore. About anything.

The person who should be sitting here right next to him, telling him that everything was going to be okay while enjoying a cold beer was gone. Where was she? Somewhere lost in her own skin, that’s all he really knew. Some might say she finally given up and decided to let it take control. Whatever sort of tricks that Lucifer put on her was the straw that broke the camel’s back. But Sam had faith. He had to. Y/N did it for all those years. From sending him off to college and trying to make sense of his psychic abilities. All the way down to the last second of him freeing the Devil himself from the cage. She never once looked at him differently. She always offered a landing hand to pull him back to safety. It’d be selfish of him not to return the favor one more time.

The young man might have been on board with jumping into the pit and giving himself up for a life of misery, his brother had still been on the fence about the whole thing. Perhaps it was the gorey details of drinking blood from Y/N that made him a bit squeamish. But he would come around to it eventually. And he did. Dean joined his little brother for a beer from the little green cooler and finally forced himself to discuss the matter. Dean realized his little brother wasn’t so little anymore. While he didn’t agree with it, he knew it was the right thing to do. The both of them knew the fate of the world depended on this. And most importantly, if there was any reason to let Sam say yes to the Devil, it was for the sake of getting Y/N back. Safe and sound.

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Saying yes to the Devil was exactly the same, as it required some gut wrenching elements Sam needed to take if he wanted to be strong enough just be considered a vessel. It was the unfavorable demon blood that once tore apart a family. And make it a double. The brothers were no strangers to killing a demon or two in their time, or even the more gruesome side of hunting. Beheading vamps and burning hundred year old corpses is not for the faint of heart. But if they wanted to get their hands on some grade a pure demon blood, they needed to lower their moral standards and risk a few lives.

Did you know the average human body contains one and a half gallons of blood? That’s how much the brothers and Cas managed to get after they found a couple of low-ranking demons, tied them up by their feet like some cattle and slit their throats clean. It was enough to fill up four gallons and stuff it into the trunk for later use. Sam stood in the basement cleaning the knife with a blank expression. While Dean was no stranger to a gory sight, he found himself feeling little green in the face as he followed Cas and his brother out to broad daylight again to fill the blood in the trunk. The man reached a finger to his cheek when felt something tickling his skin. It took only a second before he realized it was a spec of demon blood.

Dean, however, averted his attention over to the older hunter who sat working diligently outside of his van as he shuffled through newspaper and important looking documents. For a second Dean thought that he saw Y/N standing right at the man’s side working silently next to him, avoiding what had just unfolded at all cost. It wasn’t that she would be squeamish at the sight of blood. It was the truth she couldn’t handle. And seeing Sam drink a nurse clean of her blood was enough to burn a permanent visual inside her mind. She would still be looking for a way out until the bitter end. Dean blinked, watching as her body disappeared from his sight, making him feel a bit startled at the tricks his mind was able to play on him.

The older Winchester brushed off the hallucination he had as his eyes wandered over to Sam and Cas, the both of them were preoccupied in making sure the blood would stay safe. He headed over to Bobby to see if he found anything useful, and like always, a sarcastic jab was never far from falling out of his mouth. “I still can’t get used to you at eye level.” Bobby responded with a tight smile as he rolled his eyes. One demon deal that wasn’t completely wasted was getting Bobby’s legs back to normal. The hunter looked over at the building, curious to see if he had been right about his prediction. “As always, Yoda. Two stunt demon’s inside, just like you said.”

“Did you get it?” Bobby asked, hopeful this hit wasn’t a wasteful one.

“Yeah, all the ‘go juice’ Sammy can drink.” Dean said. He looked over his shoulder to see his brother wiping his fingers of whatever blood that had accidentally spilled out before wiping it on his jeans. “Now we just need is chemical X. Then everything should be set.”

An grim, uneasy look settled into the oldest Winchester’s face when he began to drift off to what happened just a few days ago. The image of Y/N hovering over Sam, forcing him to drink her blood was gut wrenching just from the memory. But to know that it wasn’t her doing, that there were two other personalities taking over her actions made it worse. Dean never had the pleasure of knowing what it was like to be possessed by a demon. Having Satan himself and your own demons working against you, it was a losing battle. And the four of them gave the ammunition, thinking it was the way out of this nightmare. But he was only falling deeper, the light was growing smaller and smaller.

“You okay?” Bobby’s question broke the younger hunter out of his thoughts.

“Not really.” Dean admitted truthfully. But there was no time to talk about their feelings. “What do you got?”

“Not much. These look like omens to you?” Bobby handed over a few newspaper with a few headlines that discussed the unnatural weathers spreading across the states. “Cyclone in Florida, temperature drop in Detroit, wildfires in L.A.”

“Wait.” Dean stopped the hunter when he heard a familiar city. “What about Detroit?”

“Temp’s dropped about twenty degrees,” Bobby explained. “But only in a five-block radius of downtown motown.”

“That’s the one.” Dean said, tossing the newspaper to the back of the van with the rest of the papers. “Devil’s in Detroit.”

“Really? As far as foreboding goes, it’s a little light in the loafers. And there’s no sign of the usual demon omens, either.“ Bobby said, attempting to tread around lightly around the subject that nobody dare say. Not just yet. "You sure?”

Dean nodded his head to answer the older hunter’s question. He looked back over at his little brother when the trunk slammed shut. The both of them exchanged sullen glances, knowing this is where the younger Winchester went to die. He could only hope this act of bravery would be enough to save one of their own before it was too late.

\+ + +

She might have won the battle, but she won the war. For someone who was so smart, so sure of herself that she could win…she should have known better. Pride was a sin, after all. And nice girls always finish last last. And she was being punished for fighting all those years by being trapped in her own body, unable to do anything but watch. Y/N knew she was still in there, clawing and begging for her life to be let out one last time before the darkness took over and she’d be forever trapped in the confinements of her own skin. All of her memories of a life once before were slowly being…Y/N refrained herself from saying destroyed. Destroyed was such a harsh word to describe what he was doing for her. He was…upgrading. The rose tinted glasses she’d worn for the first twenty nine years of her life were finally being taken off to reveal a world that was never kind to her. 

A mother who selfishly molded her into her perfect child. Friends who always looked at her a bit differently for her interests, forcing her into liking what they liked. Two brothers who mistreated her, brainwashed her into doing exactly what they wanted. They used her like some kind of common whore. Y/N and this doomed planet was abandoned by a God who didn’t care anymore, despite her best effort after she was murdered by those two hunters. Wasted all for nothing.

Y/N could feel her fists tightening as she adjusted her crossed arms to keep her anger in check. She took a step forward to the large window that overlooked the quiet city street below. They would get what’s coming to them. Bobby, Castiel. The Winchesters. This whole world will. She didn’t need anyone. Expect for him. And only him. He would give her salvation from the guilt and depression forced upon her from her actions. Thanks to him, she was gone forever.

The old Y/N was dead, long live the new Y/N. 

The old Y/N might have been able to fight off her natural abilities before, but it was impossible now. She thought before an angel’s grace would have been the golden ticket to saving her soul from rotting to the very core. Nobody questioned where it came from, nobody would have suspected Lucifer to be so sneaky. So kind to free her from a lifetime of misery if she were to stay human. Nobody would ever love her the way Lucifer did. He was the only one she needed.

In the new world he would bring, there would be no more God to worship. No figure to bring words of a holy place. Only Y/N and Lucifer. Together the both of them would rule over this sad little planet that was rightfully theirs. Heaven and Hell at her fingertips, all the little angels and demons who did her wrong will finally suffer as they made her did. His queen. It’s what he called her as he softly brought the back of her hand up to the lips when she had shown improvement. The grace he had given her and the demon blood were mixing well together. It took a little bit of effort before she was feeling like the person she was always meant to be. No pain, no gain. 

Y/N peered down at the city street below of an abandoned apartment building above some little Chinese restaurant she and Lucifer have been occupying over the past few days in Detroit, Michigan. She knew they were coming, it was just a matter of time until they got themselves prepared and Sam ate his Wheaties. She head tilted to the side as she mindlessly reached to play with the locket hanging off the gold chain when a couple walked down the street, hand in hand with a matching smile on their faces. They make their way by, unaware of the person watching them. The old Y/N would have smiled to herself and thought the sight was kind of cute, as it reminded her of a certain someone that she loved once upon a time.

Now, Y/N wondered what it’d be like to slit their throat and see how the only would beg and cry for her to stop. Human emotions—it’s something Y/N didn’t miss anymore. Along with her clothes that were thrown in some dumpster after being stained with all that demon blood she drank. Her new clothes she was wearing now made her feel better, more powerful to match her new title. Mother of Darkness. Queen of the damned. And if anyone had a problem with it, they could face the consequences of her wrath.

“How do we know this isn’t some kind of trap her and those Winchesters are trying to pull? I mean, first it was Crowley that went off the deepend. And then Brady? Not to mention how many demons she’s slaughtered over the years. She drinks some demon blood, changes her clothes and then suddenly she’s the new boss around here?“

“I don’t know, man. Nobody tells us anything. They just tell us to go along with it and shut our mouths. But…you gotta admit, though. She’s kinda hot a demon….Oh, come on! Don’t give me that look. I seen you eyeing her ass when she isn’t looking. You could bounce a nickel off that thing. What I would do if I got fifteen minutes alone with he—”

The demon’s words fell short when he felt something wrap around his throat, as if someone was trying to rip him out of his meat suit, but never quite getting there, making him suffer. The sounds of shoes echoed off the walls as Y/N stepped out from the corner she had been hiding in to see what the conversation was all about. Her lips were stretched into a friendly smile as her arm was outstretched in front of her, Y/N’s hand clenched into a tight fist as she watched the demon choke and attempt to free himself from whatever she were doing to him. Y/N let him suffer for a little longer as she slowly looked over at his partner, wondering if he wanted to participate in the same punishment However, the man seemed to be the smart one in their little duo. He straightened himself up and quickly looked away, a look of fear settled in his eye.

Y/N continued on the punishment for a few more grueling seconds before she unclenched her fist, letting the demon go from her grip she had on him. He fell to the ground as he inhaled a deep breath, but it only lasted for a moment until he felt a grip around his throat. Y/N crouched down on the ground and sank her nails into his skin, her head titled to the side slightly as she looked at him directly in the eye. She wanted to make it quite clear of who he was trying to mess with.

“Look, I understand changes are tough. I wasn’t your best friend that long ago. But you want to know what happened to the last person who talked to me like that? I’ll give you a hint. It involved me cutting out his tongue. All before I slit his throat clean. There’s dozens of you here. I doubt Lucifer would dare if you suddenly…dropped dead.” Y/N said, her tone was eerily calm as her words were haunting enough to make the demon listen. “If you have a problem with who’s in charge now, I can make it easy on you and send you back to Hell with all your buddies. Like…Lilith, Azazel, Alastair, Ruby, Brady…and all the other sad sons of bitches who got wasted. You want that?”

“No, ma’am.” The demon whispered in a quiet voice, understanding his role better.

"All right! We’re here, you sons of bitches! Come and get it!”

Y/N looked over her shoulder and out the window to hear someone shouting from outside down the street below. Her tongue poked out between her teeth when she heard a familiar voice come from outside, it didn’t take much of a memory to recognize who the voice belonged to. She pushed herself up to her feet and walked over to see the sight of two faces charging forward to the apartment. She shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her mouth. It was like a lamb being lead to the slaughter after one of their own was dragged away. It would only be a matter of time until the Winchesters found out where she was to try at their usual routine of saving the day. But not tonight. Never again.

Y/N’s eyes flickered black as her lips stretched into a devilish smirk. She turned her head to face the two demons, “How about you make yourselves useful and help greet our guests?”

\+ + +

Bobby stood just partly out from the alleyway he’d been hiding in over the past few minutes, the nighttime and lack of street lights kept him secured in the darkness as he continued to scope out the block. He counted twenty demons already covering the past three blocks of downtown Detroit. The hunter placed the binoculars back to his eyes when he spotted yet another demon up on the top floor, just staring out into the street below like he was told. Bobby found his gaze lingering to another window just across the way when he spotted a blurry figure pass a few times before settling themselves to gaze out on the street below. The man felt himself swallow at the sight of a familiar face he hadn’t seen in a few days. There you stood. From the looks of it, you weren’t in harm’s way, there was no proof that you were being mistreated by the company you were surrounded with. As a matter of fact, you seemed…happy.

You stood in front of the window as you casually played around with the locket Bobby had once remembered seeing Ella wear the exact same one when she would occasionally visit after she fell pregnant with you. How that felt like a million years ago. Your lips were moving as your smile grew even wider, like you were laughing at something. Bobby furrowed his brow in confusion as he watched the sight for a little longer. You stood there for a moment or so until you disappeared from his sight. Bobby let out a quiet sigh as he placed down the binoculars, knowing he didn’t need them anymore after coming to the conclusion that Dean was right. If you were here, the Devil couldn’t be too far behind. He just hoped that him and the boys weren’t too late.

Bobby headed back a few blocks to where the boys and Cas had been hiding out for safety. The grim look on the older hunter’s face was enough to know that what he found wasn’t good. “Demons. At least two dozen of them. And I’m pretty sure I saw Y/N hiding out with them, too.” Bobby clarified everyone’s suspicions. Dean felt his jaw tighten at the news as his lingered to the end of the alley. “You were right—something’s up.”

“More than something. If Y/N’s around, he’s gotta be tailing behind.” Dean said. “I know it.”

Knowing where the Devil was hiding out was just the first step of this plan. Now it was time to take action. Dean moved one foot in front of the other as he walked over to the trunk, getting himself ready like any other hunt. Sam let out a quiet sigh as he pushed himself off the Impala, knowing this was where his big role came in. The man’s eyes trailed the pavement before meeting the older hunter. Everyone should have been thankful they were getting a chance to have a proper goodbye. Sam never got that with his father, who sold his soul to Azazel and was found dead of a heart attack on the hospital floor. But sometimes dropping dead was better. Nobody had to sit, twiddling their thumbs, watching as someone prepared themselves for battle.

Bobby looked at the younger man straight in the eye. Who would have thought the little scrawny kid he watched while John went off on hunts would have turned into this. He could a lump building up in his throat. But the man wouldn’t dare show any sort of emotion. The one thing about hunting was that you never let your feelings show. Not until all of this was over.

“I’ll see you around, kid.” Bobby said, giving his final goodbyes. Sam nodded his head and gave a tight smile, both of them trying their hardest to keep their emotions in check. Now was not the time to crack under pressure. The both of them embraced into a tight hug, like a father would for a son. This wasn’t like any other hunt. Bobby was like the father that Sam never had. And after tonight, Bobby would know what it would feel like to lose one. But he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to give the man some valuable life advice. “He gets in…you fight him tooth and nail, you understand? Keep swingin’. Don’t give an inch.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam reassured the man. Bobby forced himself to give a smile before stepping away so his back was turned to the three other men, needing a moment to collect his emotions. He knew their final goodbye was going to have to end at some point. Nobody wanted this, but it had to be done. The younger man inhaled a deep breath from how Bobby was handling this. He turned his attention over to his friend, Cas. He walked over and outstretched his hand, expecting the angel to give him a handshake. “Take care of these guys, okay?”

Cas, the angel who still didn’t understand how human etiquette and emotions worked just yet, titled his head to the side as he softly let out a sigh. “That’s not possible.”

“The humor me.” Sam chuckled, but he was the least bit amused at how this conversation was turning out between the both of them.

“Oh. I was supposed to lie.” The angel figured out that most humans don’t like to hear the truth during troubling times. He learned from you that it was best to reassure people that things were going to get better. He tried his hardest, but ended up failing miserably to comfort the younger Winchester. “Uh…sure. They’ll be fine. I—”

“Just—Just stop…talking.” Sam cut off the angel, not wanting to hear anymore.

Cas tried to give the man a crooked smile, but it didn’t make the knot in his stomach ease any less of what he was about to do. Sam turned away and faced the open trunk where his brother stood, along with the four gallons of the special juice they had gotten earlier this morning. He walked to the car until he was staring at the exact same thing he would have killed for a year ago. Funny how time can change things for the worse. Sam thought he was doing right by trusting Ruby and killing Lilith, the one who would have stopped the Devil from rising. Only turned out it was the wrong moves that lead to this exact moment.

What stared in front of him was something that almost tore this family apart. Demon blood wasn’t a kind subject around here. And, yet again, in a twist of events, this was supposed to be the one thing that was going to save this world from ending. But having to drink all this blood in front of three people who had fought to get him off this addiction wasn’t the worst of it. It waited for him inside the apartment building.

More blood coming from a living and breathing source, fresh to the touch and waiting for him to let it slip down his throat without fighting. Sam felt himself nearly sick to his stomach at the thought of knowing that the last source of blood wasn’t going to be from Ruby, or any other demon. It was going to have to come from

“You mind not watching this?” Sam asked his brother, his gaze never lifting from the trunk.

Dean could see his brother high off demon blood, but seeing him was a whole another line he didn’t want to cross. He didn’t want the last memory Dean would have of him was chugging the one thing that the both of them fought so much over. The older Winchester listened and walked to the front of the Impala, letting his brother finish this task in private. However long it might take.

The process felt like it took hours. Maybe it did, the whole world felt like it was slowing down on him, forcing him to hear every gulp and sound of the plastic jug hitting the pavement when Sam got done with it. Dean didn’t look up from a certain spot on the ground that he chose to stare off into, trying to find some relief to this situation. This was for the greater good, he tried to remind himself. This was what his little brother wanted. What he thought was the right thing to do. He couldn’t protect him anymore. It was time for him to let go and take control the situation. Throw Lucifer back into the pit where he belonged and get you back to your old self. It was the best outcome they could get with what was handed to them.

Dean began to think back to the conversation he had with his brother when Cas was asleep in the backseat on the drive here. His little brother made it clear that he didn’t want him or you trying to pull any sort of stunt to get him out of the cage. Sam wanted the both of you to have that apple pie life, be happy for once in your lives. Dean had been a bit shy discussing the topic of wanting to quit hunting for good. He dropped hints every so often, but it became clear when he was staring at the apocalypse straight in the face after realizing there was no real way of taking down Lucifer. He wanted to say yes to Michael to get it over with. He was given the promise that he and everyone he loved would be granted paradise, you would be normal again. And happy. Dean began to think about what life would be like with you at his side again.

Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to have that djinn fantasy come true. He always enjoyed working on Baby, it wouldn’t be too hard with the skills he knew to find a job of being a mechanic. His father owned his own shop with a friend of his, before the nursery fire that took his mother’s life. You would find something that made you happy. Or perhaps you would like the idea of staying home with the two point five kids you and him would have. The both of you could be given a chance to raise a generation that wouldn’t be doomed for a fate of misery. But yet again, Mary tried to do the same thing. Ella did as well. Maybe…there was no such as happy endings. Not for the Winchesters, at least.

Sam slammed the trunk down with a forceful push after finishing the last drop of the demon blood. The three men looked over to see the demon blood had an immediate kick in time, Sam started to inhale deep breaths as he got a look in his eye…the high starting to cloud his mind and fill him up with that false confidence he had felt when he was about to take on Lilith. He began walking straight forward with his eye sight focused on the sight in front of him. Dean wasn’t feeling all that enthusiastic. The older man looked over at Cas and Bobby, a look of dread settled across his face as he followed behind his little brother.

“All right! We’re here, you sons of bitches!” Sam shouted on the top of his lungs and he walked forward to the rundown building that Bobby had said he spotted you in. He threw his hands up in the air as he waited for a couple of demons to greet them. “Come and get it!”

The front door with a ‘Closed’ sign hanging opened slowly a few seconds after Sam made his presence well known. But who stepped outside to welcome them in was of a familiar face they wouldn’t have suspected to see so soon. You walked out the front door with two men following behind your every move. You stopped at the end of the curb and crossed your arms over your chest. A smile began to curl at the ends of your lips at seeing the brothers. While the gesture seemed welcoming, you blinked, letting your eyes turn to the pitch black color they never could quite get used to. But Sam wasn’t the least bit intimidated by your new side. Your eyes returned to their normal color when you noticed the younger Winchester’s lips were stained with what appeared to be blood.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” You said. You slowly drew your gaze away from the younger man and to his older brother. Dean stared at you for what felt like forever in just the few seconds you had gotten here. It was as if he was trying to find any sort of evidence that the old you was still in there. “I knew it’d be a matter of time until you two got here.”

“If I may say…Looking good, sweetheart.” Dean greeted you with a smile of his own, even pushing it to the point where he given you a wink. He had to be honest, you did look better than the last time that he saw you. But you were covered in blood and taking on three different personalities. Here you stood in control of yourself, appearing more confident than ever before. You raised a brow, as if you wanted him to test your patience with him. “Is your father home? We’re liked to have a nice, civilized chat with him.”

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes from hearing what the oldest Winchester said. You waved your hand in the air for the demons that followed you out here to make themselves useful by grabbing your guests before you headed inside. The five of you made your way up the stairs and down a hallway before you stopped at a door. Swinging it loudly open, you stepped inside first as the brothers were hauled inside, the demon holding Sam almost purposely stepped into the direction of a lamp to make him stumble. Dean felt himself being pushed forward after the demon let him go. You walked over to the man who was standing next to the window with his body leaning against the wall. The brothers knew from the familiar outfit and deterioration vessel that this was where the Devil was calling his hideout.

“Oh Lucy…” You called out to the Devil himself with a sing-song voice as you looked over your shoulder, giving the boys a smirk for the trouble they had gotten themselves into. “Look what I found.”

“Hey, guys.” Lucifer drew his gaze away from the window to greet his guests. The brothers stared at a sight that seemed like it would never have come to. You stood next to the Devil with a calm expression on your face. All those months of being haunted by him in your dreams, fighting whatever sort of trick he’d done to your soul. All of it was for nothing. You’d given in. “So nice of you to drop in.”

\+ + +

“The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have…and a few things they

. But none of that stuff’s important. This is the stuff that’s important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray—it’s still stuck there. The legos that Dean shoved into the vents—to this day, heat come on and they can hear ‘em rattle. A dent on the right side of the bumper caused when Y/N was learning how to drive. Dean spent the entire afternoon trying to get it back to normal. Until the day John died, he never knew. These are the things that make the car theirs—really theirs.

Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed, ‘cause it’s the blemishes that make her beautiful. And Dean, the one who barely let anyone drive Baby instead of Sam on the occasion, would use that small little bump as a way to get Y/N out of driving. (But he’d been the one who taught her how to. She would always throw that in his face, causing a mandatory hand over over the keys.)

But the Devil doesn’t know or care what kind of car Y/N and the boys drive.”

\+ + +

Lucifer took a step forward to the window and blew out a breath, making a frost appear on the glass. He licked his index finger and began to draw a pitchfork into the frost. “Sorry if it’s a bit chilly. Most people think I burn hot.” The Devil said, giving some insight to what he could do. And why the normal temperatures were so much colder than before, making his hideout a dead giveaway. “It’s actually quite the opposite.”

“Well, I’ll alert the media.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Your eyes quickly diverted over to him, as the least bit amused look settled across your face. It was almost like old times, Dean running his mouth and making remarks that would only get him more into trouble, you giving him the death glare to shut up. But the hostile look in your eye made him realize that there was a void—like there was nothing there anymore. The man swallowed as Lucifer looked over his shoulder, deciding to get to the bottom of this situation as he turned around to face his guests and their unexpected arrival.

“Help me understand something, guys.” Lucifer said, acting all too casual about this. The boys took notice of the burns across his vessel’s skin, they spread from patches on his face all the way down to his neck. It was a face that could only be looked at with total and complete fear of the person. “I mean, stomping through my front door is…tad suicidal, don’t you think?”

“We’re not here to fight you.” Sam clarified the situation that was unfolding here.

“No?” The Devil wondered. “Then why are you here?”

Sam answered by saying those five dreaded words, “I want to say ‘yes.’”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion at what he said, wondering if this was some kind of trick he was doing to take all of you by surprise. It’d be easier to admit defeat and get yourself up close than trying to fight through all those demons. But Sam proved himself true to his word when he shut his eyes, and with little effort, you watched the two demons drop dead to the ground. The man could have only done that sort of thing when he was pumped up with gallons of demon blood. It seemed he pushed himself to the very limit to prepare himself for Lucifer and that grand plan of his. Sam might have been smart, but you were smarter than he would ever be.

“Chock-full of ovaltine, are we?” You asked. You pretended to be impressed at what sort of things he could with all that demon blood running through his veins. But he was serious about saying yes to the Devil, he had one more crucial step. “Still missing the most important ingredient, Sammy.”

“You heard me. Yes.” Sam repeated himself one more time. You slowly looked away from the younger man and Lucifer, both of you exchanged a look, leaving the boys unsure of what was going on here. Lucifer still didn’t seem all that convinced as to why Sam would suddenly have the change of heart. “Look, judgement day’s a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off. Meaning deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it’s all over, you make Y/N human again. I live, he lives, you bring our parents back—”

“It’s adorable, really. You trying to be the big hero here one last time. But can we please drop the telenovela?” You cut off the younger Winchester as you rolled your eyes from the conditions that he was trying to set. You looked over at the boys to see they were pretending to keep their poker faces on for a little bit longer, you scoffed and shook your head. “You honestly think I wasn’t going to tell him? Oh no, no, no. We can’t have that.”

“I know you have the rings, Sam.” Lucifer said. The Devil stood with his arms crossed over his chest and an index finger resting against his chin, deciding to give the man a chance to come clean. However, Sam stood there, pretending to play dumb as he tried to cover his tracks by saying he had no idea what either one of you were talking about. So, Lucifer decided to ask a few questions, wondering which one was going to make the man finally admit the truth. “The horsemen’s rings? The magic keys to my cage? Ring a bell?” Lucifer began to walk slowly around the room until he crossed paths between the brothers. He looked at Sam directly in the eye from what he said next. “Come on, Sam, I’ve never lied to you or Y/N. You could at least pay me the same respect.”

“After everything he did for us, Sammy.” You said, diverting the attention back over to you as you slowly shook your head. As if you were disappointed in what he had done. “You should’ve known better. Like Dean always said, you can’t fight who you were meant to be. It’d be a matter of time until you came crawling here.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin…I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, I’ll return Y/N back to normal. And you can jump into the hole. I win… I win.” Lucifer couldn’t help himself but let a smile spread across his lips, knowing the outcome before the fight even started. You slowly drew something from your back pocket for the boys to see. With a quick flick of the wrist, you held a sharp knife, knowing what was going to come next after Sam said the magic word. “What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I’m better than you-ou.”

Sam contemplated for a moment about what the right thing to do was. Dean wanted to back out of this situation, knowing his little brother couldn’t possibly take control of the Devil. He wasn’t strong enough. But he wanted to do it. “So he knows. Doesn’t change anything.” The younger Winchester whispered, knowing the odds weren’t his favor. But he wasn’t going to back down from this fight. “We don’t have any other choice.”

“Don’t be afraid, Sammy. I know you want to.” You pushed the man into fulfilling his desire when you outstretched your arm holding the knife, allowing him to do the honors. “Do it.”

Sam didn’t hesitate when he walked over to you and grabbed the switchblade from your grip. He swallowed and looked at you straight in the eye for a moment, wondering if he could find any trace of you still in there. But you stared blankly ahead at him, growing a bit impatient as he stalled. But he didn’t anymore. He slowly pressed the blade into your skin, slicing it open to reveal the same crimson red blood color slowly rise to the surface. You looked away and to the older Winchester, a smirk spread across your lips at the sight that he tried his hardest to never come true. You brought your wrist to Sam’s mouth as you stared back at him, getting ready for him to take his final taste.

Sometimes your old memories would come flooding back, bringing you to a moment to question your surroundings. You furrowed your brow as you stared at the man in front of you. Suddenly you felt a sense of deja vu hit you from the sight that was unfolding at once. Why did this feel all so familiar? Comforting the younger Winchester as he got ready to taste your blood for the first time. You could feel your smile beginning to fade as everything seemed to move in slow motion. Sam watched as you made eye contact with him, and just like that, your facial expression changed—into complete horror. You realized all of a sudden why this was so familiar to you. You had done the exact same thing when you were under Famine’s control, this was what he was trying to prepare you for. Before he could make the biggest mistake of his life, you took control of your body again.

“Sam, no!” You cried out, trying your hardest to pull yourself away from him to stop things from getting any worse. Out of anyone, you knew what kind of control the Devil had over someone. You had beaten your demon side, even Lucifer’s grace that was manipulating your own thoughts for just a split second. Maybe it would be enough time to take the swan dive into the pit. You looked over your shoulder and gave Satan a pleading look, trying to change things. If he got into your body, you might be able to fight him long enough for this stupid plan to work. “Let me—”

The rest of the words died on your tongue when you felt Sam’s lips wrap around your bleeding wound, making this situation a game over. He yanked you forward and pulled you close, ignoring your pitiful attempts at trying to fight him off. You watched as he swallowed all the blood he would need before pushing you away from him, steering you clear from the fight that was about to begin. You could feel yourself stumbling backwards slightly, but before you could fall, a pair of hands steady you. Dean pulled you away as his brother said the magic word—yes.

Lucifer grew a smile as he outstretched his arms as he closed his eyes, getting himself ready to begin the transformation. You furrowed your brow as you wondered what needed to happen for it to take place. Suddenly the room began to fill up with a bright light, to the point where it blinded you and Dean. The both of you had to look away as a familiar piercing ring vibrated into your ears. It was happening, this was really happening. The process lasted for what felt like forever, but when the ringing began to fade and your eyes seen only darkness as you pressed your eyelids harder together, a sense of dread filled you.

Slowly, you parted one eye open, wondering what happened. You stood up straight and noticed the two demons were still on the ground, Dean right right by your side, and Sam was lying on the floor. You could feel a sigh of relief to see that his chest was breathing up and down. But that wasn’t the only different feeling you had right now. You felt in control, just enough to face Dean. The man stood with a panicked look on his face as he stared at the rings, unsure of what to do with them. You waited for him to open up the cage, but he stood there. You didn’t hesitate a single second as she clawed and scratched for her chance to overpower you again. Not this time. Never again.

You grabbed the rings from the man’s grip and threw them to the wall, watching as it stuck perfectly. You inhaled a deep breath and began to chant the words Death specifically told you. You were in control of yourself. Not your demon side, not Lucifer’s little trick. You were in control of your own future. And you’d be damned if you were going to let them take that away from you. “Bvtmon…tabges…” The last word was right there, but you could feel the other side of you trying to win this fight once and for all. You weren’t going to make it that easy for them this time. Swallowing, you managed to fend them off for a few seconds longer, the final part of the spell completed when you spoke again. “Babalon.”

It didn’t take much time for the spell to kick in. You stepped away as you watched the plaster began to crack and the entire room began to shake. Bits of the wall began to crumble away until a hole began to form, revealing nothing but a black void that began to suck everything in that was put into its path. You quickly looked over your shoulder when you heard Dean call out his brother’s name. You forced your gaze away from the terrifying sight and headed over to the younger man when he began to wake up. The both of you helped him up to his feet. Sam was trying his hardest as he let out a painful groan from the fight that was starting to take place.

“You got to go! Now!” You ordered to him as you forced him to at least stand up. and Dean managed to get the man to his knees before you moved your way up to his feet. He was trying his hardest, and as the wind began to grow more vicious, you knew there was little time to waste. "Sammy, come on! You can do this! But you gotta go, now!”

You used all the energy that you had left and pushed the younger man to the wall that was only growing bigger with each passing second. You nervously swallowed as Sam stood with his back turned to you, and just a few inches from the opening. But he didn’t move. He didn’t even move a single muscle. You were starting to lose your patience. You shrugged off Dean’s attempt at letting his brother take control of this situation when you marched over to him, thinking you would have been so closer by taking Lucifer by surprise. It was going to be a simple push. What kind of harm would come? He’d never know what hit him. You got ready to pull the perfect trick on him, but you should have known better. He made you. The Devil would always be one step ahead of you.

You could feel a large hand grip around your throat and make your feet tangle up from the ground just by a few inches, making you attempt at trying to level yourself to the ground. Sam stood in front of you with a smile on his face, you could feel your eyes widen in horror, knowing well enough the face might have been of Sam, but the body didn’t belong to him anymore after he took control. “What did I tell you about trying to go against my rules, Y/N? Sammy’s long gone. I was just messing with you. You humans are so…predictable.“ You felt yourself being tossed to the ground like a rag doll, Lucifer finding you useless for a moment as he tended to the pesky situation. You felt yourself being lifted up to your feet and dragged away from Lucifer when he began speaking in latin, giving you enough time to give some space.

You watched in just the blink of an eye everything returned back to normal, the wall repaired itself like nothing happened and the wind stopped blowing. You swallowed as you watched Lucifer took the rings off from the wall. He examined them for a moment before he finally turned his gaze forward. It looked like the man you knew, you could see the pain in his eyes, but he wasn’t there. You inhaled a deep breath as you peered behind Dean, who was doing all he could to keep this from getting worse. A small laugh began to come from you as tears started to from in your eyes. You shook your head, wondering how everything that you hoped for could go wrong so quickly.

“You can have him, and you can try anything you want…but you’re not getting me. No.” You hissed at him, trying your hardest to stand your ground one last time as you shook your head. "I’m not your little puppet to play around with.”

“Katerina was tough to persuade, but not much as you. All I ask is for one last chance to talk. You and me.” Lucifer spoke in the kind of voice that Sam used on the people you were trying to save. You could feel yourself on the near brink of tears as you shook your head, not wanting to be near him again. You didn’t like who you were turning into. It was the kind of darkness that made you feel scared of even yourself. But it wasn’t like you had much of a choice in the matter. When Lucifer spoke again, it was directed towards you. But the older Winchester attempting to keep you safe one last time. “I told you, Dean…this would always happen in Detroit.” 

Dean blinked…and just like that. They were gone. You and his baby brother were gone.

The oldest Winchester began to frantically look around the room, his eyes jumping around to every corner to find where you could be, but all he was seeing was the dead bodies on the floor. He could feel himself finding his breathing becoming shorter as his hands rested on the top of his head. Months of hard work and attempts at trying to stop the Devil, the end of the world. And it was a fail. All a complete and total waste of time. There was no where to go anymore but down.

\+ + + 

You found yourself standing in an abandoned room you didn’t recognize. The wallpaper was faded and torn into pieces after years of neglect. You didn’t spend much time on the decor of the room as your eyes slowly wandered to the dresser you were standing in front of. You furrowed your brow to see the mirror that showed your reflection had a spiderweb crack in the middle. At first glance, like any other observation of a person, you saw what appeared to your old self staring back at you. But there was always more than meets the eye.

There was a saying about how the mirror reveals your true self. The person on the left had the same facial features and that sad, scared little look on your face from what was unfolding all at once. But the person on the right? It was a side of you that you had tried so hard to fight. She stood there with a cocky little smirk on her lips, her eyes black as her rotten soul. Two sides of you stared you in the face. But there could be only one winner.

“I can feel her in there, Y/N. Scratching away in there.” You didn’t flinch a muscle when you felt his hand softly place itself on your shoulder when he stepped behind you and appeared in the reflection. It might have appeared to be Sam who was standing behind you, but you knew it wasn’t him who took control when he leaned himself down and whispered into your ear, his eyes drifting to make eye contact with your reflection. His lips stretched into a small smile as his eyes narrowed slightly, almost making him appear like a feline predator. Cautious and clever, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his mouse that was trapped by its tail. “You got me all wrong here. I’m not the bad guy. Sammy’s still here with us.”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You forced yourself to speak the words between clenched teeth as you let out a bitter chuckle, but none of your actions seemed threatening when you felt hot tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Do you understand me?”

"Such anger…young skywalker.” Lucifer let out a sigh from the hostile behavior you were giving him. He chuckled to himself when he saw your face scrunch up with anger at his remark which was supposed to be funny. He composed himself as he drifted his eyes over to the right, where he stared at who you were trying to fight. The person he wanted you to be. You could feel his hand lift itself away from your shoulder, all before wrapping around your chin, forcing yourself to stare straight into those black eyes. “Who are you really angry with, Y/N? Me? Or that face in the mirror?”

“I’m sure this is all a big joke to you, huh?” You asked, your lips stretching into a tight smile as you continued to stare at the reflection that you felt really didn’t belong to you. But a stranger he had lost once before. “You gonna try to swoon me like you did before so I’ll fall into place? Make into some puppet because your brother killed her?“

“Not at all. I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N…for a long, long time. Only you. You are far more outstanding than anything I could have imagined while I was wrongfully locked away. I loved Katerina with all my heart. She was beautiful and strong. But she wasn’t mine. Not the way that you are to me.” Lucifer said. His hand dropped away from his face as he stood up straighter, but never once did he leave your reflection. You let out a shaky breath from what he was trying to say in a soft, sweet voice. “Come on, Y/N. You have to admit it—you can feel it, right?”

You furrowed your brow as you shook your head, “What?”

“The exhilaration. And you know why that is? Because we’re two halves made whole, Y/N. We were made for each other. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. And without me..well, .you wouldn’t exist. M.F.E.O.” Lucifer whispered each letter into your ear before let out a breath. You shut your eyes and tried to ignore how the simple gesture could make a shiver run down your spine. And you knew it wasn’t caused from fear. “Literally.”

“This feels pretty damn far from good.” You said, trying your hardest to fight whatever he was trying to do.

“I’ve been inside your grapefruit, Y/N. I made you who you are. You can’t lie to me—I see it all. How odd you always felt, how…selfish you thought your mother was. She was always trying to make you into something for her own desire. She made sure you always stayed in line. Punish you when you did something she didn’t like. And why shouldn’t you have resented her? She was foster care—at best. And what about Dean?” Your shook your head from what he was saying, you wanted him to stop. But he kept going. “He only loved you the way Michael did for Katerina. He liked the innocence, the sweet girl he could protect. But he could never love the darkness that was inside of her.“

“Because you made her that way. You ruined her life because you hated your brother.” You said, seeing right through whatever kind of sympathy story he was telling you to fall into place like he wanted. “All of this started because you hated your family.”

"You might be right. But you and I both know the family we had never appreciated our way of thinking. They didn’t understand us…and our way of thinking. I’m your real family, Y/N.” Lucifer said. You didn’t know if you wanted to start laughing at what he told you next. “I’m the only one you need. Dean’s not your real soulmate. He never can love you the way I can.”

“No, that’s not true.” You muttered as you shook your head.

“It is. And I know you know it.” Lucifer contradicted your way of thinking. You quickly looked away from your reflection to see the scared person in which you felt like right now, but she changed. You furrowed your brow to see you were staring at a happy person, comfortable in his embrace. "All those times Sam ran away and showed up on your doorstep, you always allowed him in. Because the both of you understood each other. You would do

for him. And you did. Making all those deals and risking your life to go to hell. But you didn’t do it just out of the goodness of your own heart. You were running towards me.You were becoming who I always wanted you to be.”

Lucifer thought, if given the chance to explain himself, you would understand and finally take the blindfold off and see the truth. But you didn’t crack. You were still holding onto the memories of a life before with the Winchester brothers. He let out a sigh, knowing this was harder than he had intended this to be. 

"This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know. I understand you have grown attached to the people in your life. I can respect that. I let Dean live, didn’t I? I want him to live if that’s what you want. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll bring your folks back, too.” Lucifer tried to persuade you with an offer that you couldn’t refuse. Family was always a big thing for you, and unlike him, you liked humanity. And all the different people you came across. The good, the bad, and the ugly personalities. “I want you to be happy, Y/N.” 

“I don’t want anything from you.” You said, your voice growing colder. “All you have done is ruin everything for me.”

“Really? Not even a little payback for the people who really did you wrong?” Lucifer asked you. You furrowed your brow as you asked him what that was supposed to mean. He quickly turned you around to face another part of the place that he took you, showing a circle of people. “Look closely, Y/N. None of these little Devils look familiar to you?”

“Oh my…” You refrained yourself from saying the word as you examined the faces of people that slowly registered in your mind. They were all from your past. All these people were from your life after moving away from Kansas and to your new life without the boys. “That’s Mr. Bensman, one of my grade-school teachers.”

“That was your first real best friend Maggie, the one who lived three houses down from you. And isn’t that the junior who asked you to prom when you were just a little freshman? Only come to find out it was some cruel joke. Made you feel worthless. Can’t you remember all the people laughing at you? How badly you wanted to hurt them? They’re here today because I wanted to show you the truth. Y/N Y/L/N, this is your life. Azazel’s gang—watching you since you were a rugrat, jerking you around like a dog on a leash. And the big man himself. Don’t you remember what he did to your poor mother?” You swallowed as you let out a breath from seeing your mother appear again in her last moments of life. But you could see a pair of yellow eyes staring at you, her lips stretched into a smirk. But you knew it was caused by the demon that killed her. “I know how you feel about them. Me too. Revenge is so ripe for the taking…but you never got a chance to do it yourself. Did you?”

“No.” You whispered, shaking your head. “I was never allowed to.”

“No. That’s right. Your mother told you to behave like a young, polite woman when handling your anger. It was always Dean who got to gank the monster, save the girl. And Sammy….well, we can’t be angry at him. We know it was him who had to free me.” Lucifer said. His lips stretched into a smile when he could feel yourself beginning to stop fighting as your fists clenched. He slowly grabbed ahold of your wrist, turning you around so you were now facing him. The sweet desire, for whoever it might be, was too tempting not to pick. Like how Eve picked off the apple from the tree. Everyone had a hunger that needed to be fed. He softly cupped your face with his hands as he looked down at you. Instead of staring at him with hostility or anger, you looked at him the way nobody ever had. You stared at him with a loving expression. “See how better it feels when you’re not fighting it, little one?”

“Yeah.” You agreed with him as your lips stretched into a faint smile. “I feel…in control. Powerful. I never felt like this before.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to give you, Y/N. Unlike my father, I will never abandon you. You will give you everything you desire. Control, the world on a silver platter, revenge…love.” Lucifer listed off just a few of the things that he promised. His lips stretched into a smile when your eyes lit up with the last word that he said. “You’re far better than anything I could imagine. You are…a true piece of art.” Lucifer could still feel Sam clawing his way around, trying to gain control, but he didn’t care for the younger Winchester right now. He knew he wanted this himself. The Devil made sure of it. He slowly leaned down to your your height, and without even thinking, it came like a second nature to him, you shut your eyes when he pressed his lips against yours. Both of you shared a sweet, simple kiss. You let out a sigh when he pulled himself away as your eyes flickered back to their inky, malevolent color, yearning for more. Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he looked at the circle of people. “What do you say you and I blow off a little steam?”

\+ + +

“Reports are flooding in—a 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston, more in Hong Kong, Berlin and Tehran. The U.S.G.S. has no explanation. But says to expect a six-figure death toll.”

An array of small little screens all played the same major news station that were broadcasting a world outside of the city of Detroit. Dean stepped forward to the storefront as a crowd gathered around to see what was going on. Whispers and murmurs flowed around as they tried to guess what was going on. Perhaps a shift in tectonic plates? Maybe all those warnings about climate change have finally settled in. One person said it could have been the apocalypse, but that was shrugged off with a scoff. Dean knew damn well that it was the truth. This was just a taste of what the world was going to see. Millions of people dying from natural disasters. And a couple billion others after Michael and Lucifer had their big fight. It was only a matter of time.

“It’s starting.” Cas muttered as he passed by the glass display, his eyes wandered over to the live footage of crumbled buildings and debris before turning his back on the sight.

“Yeah, you think, genius?” Dean remarked with little humor in his voice.

“You don’t have to be mean.” The angel said.

“So,” The oldest Winchester wasn’t going to let any of this stop him. Lucifer might have the two people that he cared about, and he might even have the rings. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying one last time. “What do we do now?”

Cas remained silent for a moment as he tried to think of a plan, but it went in a direction that the man would have never thought of. Yet, he should have seen it coming. The angel wanted to lay down and take whatever came. “I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol…just wait for the inevitable blast wave.”

“Yes, well. Swell. Thank you, Bukowski.” Dean said. “I mean, how do we stop it?”

“We don’t.” The angel answered. He turned around to face the hunter and looked at him, wondering why he was still holding onto hope. All of them were staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger. It was only a matter of time until someone pushed it and them out of their misery. “Y/N is a demon. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, and the battle of armageddon begins.”

“One problem at a time.” Dean said, deciding to handle the most important one right now before moving onto the next “Where’s this chosen field?”

Cas let out a sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Well, there’s got to be something that we can do.” Dean snapped, trying to get something more out of the angel than that stupid, sad little look on his face that he was tempted to punch off.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” The angel apologized. He let out a sigh from what he had to say. Months of different leads and fighting, only brought them to the point of no return. They had no other choice but lay down and take what was coming. “This is over.”

“You listen to me, you junkless sissy—we are not giving up! Not on Sam. And especially not on Y/N. There’s got to be a way out.” Dean seethed at the angel’s pessimistic attitude. He turned his gaze over to Bobby who had been with the family through everything. He expected the man to hold out for just a little longer. But he could feel his face dropping when he saw the man was staring at him with a sad, depressed expression. “Bobby?”

“There was never much hope to begin with.” The older hunter admitted. His voice was quiet and shaky, even the words that he spoke were the most painful thing that he said. But it was the truth, he couldn’t lie much longer. “I don’t know what else to do.” 

Dean stared at the two people in front of him, the last remaining part of his team that he could trust. He could feel the boulder sitting on his chest since he left that apartment push even harder on his chest. No…No this wasn’t how it was going to end. That was all that Dean knew. He wasn’t raised to let the people he loved to die alone. If this world was going to end…then he was going down swinging. Like how he always intended to be.

\+ + +

You stared at your masterpiece he allowed you to do all on your own. The best friend who spread a rumor about you? She got her tongue cut out. The grade teacher that thought you were emotionally disturbed when you drew something he didn’t like? You started off by cutting his fingers off, inch by inch. Azazel was the special one you saved for last. You made sure he felt all the things he did to your mother, what sort of torture he put your life through. You sat on the small stage as you let out a breath, slowly, you drew your gaze away from the dead bodies and to your hands. They were stained in the blood of the people who did you wrong. Those demons that turned you into this monster got what was coming to them.

“So,” Lucifer spoke up, making you look over at him. He gave you a curious expression as his brow raised itself slightly. “Are we having fun yet?”

\+ + +

In between jobs, the boys and Y/N would sometimes get a day—sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They’d pass the time by lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, and Y/N would try to sneak some of her own cash to make sure things went smoothly when they had dry spells. But now the duo have worked out a system. Y/N got their victim drunk on cheap beer as she made small talk, luring their victim into her charm and upped the stakes. Sam hustled pool and stole the money out of the poor sucker’s pocket, like how his brother taught him. They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove a thousand miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they’d park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars…for hours…without saying a word.

Well. There was one time when Y/N gotten the urge to find a different angle for star gazing one night. She pushed herself up to her feet without warning and decided to go with her curiosity and see where it would give her in return.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Dean warned her from the hood of where he sat, watching as she pushed herself to her feet as she wobbled slightly from the sudden shift in her vision. She was always a bit afraid of heights. The older Winchester blamed it on the one beer she had that made her tipsy and let out the faintest giggle as she lunged herself to the glass. “I swear, Y/N. You break my windshield…”

Y/N reassured him that she knew exactly what she was doing as she managed to push herself up and began crawling across the cold metal before she was sitting on the roof of the Impala, the exact spot she wanted to be. She laid down and cushioned her head with her arms folded above. The boys realIzed she crawled her way up there to get a better view. Sam could feel a smile spreading across his lips at her almost childlike behavior as Dean rolled his eyes, trying not to condone this behavior. He looked away and took another sip of his drink, but he couldn’t help himself when a quiet chuckled came out, only to be hushed by the neck of the bottle as he brought it up to take a sip. Y/N stared up at the billions of stars and the full moon above her, her wide eyes filled with wonder as she stared at a sight that could always take her breath away. 

 

Looking up at those stars, it made her realize something. There was someone else looking up at the same sight as she has, somewhere in this world right now, and before her. Or any of this generation before them. There are so many people on this planet, so many who have lived before and others who will stare at this sight and hopefully be filled with awe as she did. She wondered if anyone was looking up at them right now with their heads filled with a feeling of insignificance. But not in a bad way. It was sort of…hopeful. She was one person on a planet of billions. So many different lives that are happening right now. But here she was, with the two most important people in her life. It was moments like this that made her feel alive. A stupid grin spread across her lips as her skin broke out into goosebumps. It was moments like this that she cherished. And quite possibly made her still human.

The beauty of nature is something most people take for granted. They were always worried about their nine to five jobs, having kids they weren’t ready for just yet. And throwing themselves into relationships for the sake of not being alone. Y/N could have all that. But she refused. She wanted this lifestyle. Dusty back roads and monsters who wanted to kill her. A backseat with two brothers and some outdated classic rock cassette tapes. She would choose sketchy motels and uncomfortable couches to rest her head for a few hours. Hunting was more than just seeing the nastiest things in the world on a daily basis. It was about saving people. The same people who look up at the stars and find themselves awestruck at how, no matter how many miles away another person is, the same seven billion people are staring at the same sky.

The innocence of the cold, dark night and the twinkling stars brings something out in a person. The doomed little souls in their normal lives look up at the sky, and just for a moment, they find themselves filled with this childlike mindset. They still have hope that there’s something better out there, that there’s a grand adventure waiting for them. And that’s what drove Y/N to do what she did. She might see the nastiest things in the world on a daily basis. But it was moments like this that she thought about a quote from a young girl who had gone through one of the most traumatic things this world had ever seen. But she left an inspiring piece of literature she never thought would see the light of day. “In spite of everything I still believe people are really good at heart.”

Y/N might have been the lucky one who grew up with a mother and a house to call her own. But it was a routine of the same faces, same dreary problems awaiting for her in adulthood. Like how her mother wanted it to be. That wasn’t for Ella’s little girl, her only child was much more like her mother than she would ever know. She was given everything she could possibly need to live a comfortable, normal life like how her mother wanted to. But the house, the possessions she was left didn’t feel like hers. Not the way the backseat of the Impala did.

Maybe she found it a safe haven because that’s where she spent her time for hours on end, sleeping or carrying a conversation about something insignificant. Or perhaps it was the place where she lost her virginity to the man she loved. Home was where the heart is, and the Impala was that for the three of them.

This was the car that the boys grew up in, too. It was their home. She never had to face the struggles like the boys did. But she never thought it made them different or messed up of having a life on the road. It brought them closer together, forming a bond that never broke, even during the darkest parts of their lives. The boys never looked at their situation like she had. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls, but they were never, in fact….

“Homeless. That’s a good line.” Chuck thought to himself as he read back his word that he typed into the computer as he began another chapter of Swan Song. All though this was supposed to be the final book in the series, this one was coming along better than he imagined. The words seemed to have flowed out of him easier than ever before. His concentration was pulled away from the computer screen and to the telephone that started ringing. Without much thought of who it could be, he hit the button and pressed it to his ear to greet the suspected caller. “Mistress Magda?”

“Um, no, Chuck.”

“Oh, uh, Dean.” The man shifted the phone from one ear to the other as he adjusted himself in his seat, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with embarrassment at the accidental mishap that just unfolded when the caller’s voice was much too deep to be a woman he was thinking of. “Uh, wow. I, uh, I didn’t know that you’d call.”

“Who’s Mistress Magda?” Dean wondered who he was mistaken for.

“Nothing. She’s a, uh, a—just, a, uh…a close friend.” Chuck stuttered out. He moved his glass of whiskey across to cover up the young woman posing seductively on her backside of an ad that he kept close by. The oldest Winchester didn’t seem to buy his excuse when he brought up an old name of a female friend you had set him up with. Mostly to get her out of your hair. And you thought it was a match made in Heaven for him when the girl happily labeled herself as Supernatural’s number one fan, Becky Rosen. She was a sweet girl. She really was. But she deserved so much better than a drunken mess like him. “Didn’t work out. I had too much respect for her.”

“Boy, you really got a whole virgin/hooker thing going on, don’t you?” Dean asked, making this conversation take a very strange twist Chuck wasn’t in the mood to let going on for very much longer.

“Okay, this can’t be why you called.” He said, trying to get down to the reason for the man’s unexpected need to make contact with him. 

The other line went silent for a moment, Dean didn’t want to say the words just yet. Because he knew if he did, this situation would be happening. “Sam said yes. And Y/N…she’s a demon.”

“I know. I saw it.” Chuck said. He looked over to the computer screen and to the document he’d been working on for a majority of the day. “I’m just working on the pages.”

“Did you see where the title fight goes down?” Dean asked the important question that had been on his mind since he took a moment to take a seat in the Impala and call the prophet of the Lord to see if he could be helpful one last time.

“The angels are keeping it top secret—very hush-hush.” Chuck said, giving the man a moment of doubt when he muttered something over the line. However, he wasn’t finished speaking. “But I saw it anyway. Perks of being a prophet. It’s tomorrow, high noon—place called Stull Cemetery.”

“Stull Ceme—Wait. I know that.” Dean muttered, the name struck a familiar name in his head. It was located not too far from where he grew up. “That's—that’s an old boneyard outside of Lawrence.”

It was abandoned by the living to bury the dead. During the summer your family and his would all load up into the Impala and take trips out of state before you moved away. Whenever you passed it to arrive in Lawrence when you were younger, he would make up stories to scare you about how zombies would rise up on a full moon and eat little girls with the name Y/N. He would always get yelled at by his father as Ella would give a disapproving look from the passenger side of the Impala. Dean could feel the faintest smile spread across his lips at how he would always reassure you that you would be safe from the monsters when he was around.

“Dean,” Chuck’s voice broke the man out of his concentration from a past thought that he shouldn’t have been thinking about right now. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The older Winchester gave confirmation when he spoke up again. He cleared his throat to compose himself and asked about the location, “Why Lawrence?”

“I don’t know.” Chuck admitted, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned back in his seat. “It all has to end where it started, I guess.”

“All right Chuck, you know any way to short-circuit this thing?” Dean forced himself to ask one last person he could count on to giving him some answers that might make this situation looking a little less bleak.

“Besides the rings? No. I’m sorry.” Chuck apologized to the man, wishing he could have been more helpful to ending this situation on a better version that the one was about to write.

“Well, do you have any idea what’s gonna happen next?” The older Winchester questioned him.

“I wish that I did. But I-I just—I honestly don’t know yet…wait.” Chuck stopped himself from rambling out an apology when he turned back to his computer. He clicked out of the document he was working on and to another part of the story that would be added later on. Sometimes visions would hit him at random and he pieced them all together to make sense of a story. The last thing he’d been working on was a piece about you. He skimmed the words before getting back to the man who was waiting, wondering what it might be. “Y/N…I think she’s still in there.”

“You mean—”

“I might not know how to save the world. But you might have a chance at helping Y/N.” Chuck said. “I think the grace is working. If you talked to her…remind her of who she used to be, I think there could be a way to stop her from going full dark side.”

The older Winchester could feel his heartbeat pound against his ribcage from the words that came from the other end of the phone. It was the best thing that he heard in awhile. The way you suddenly snapped back into your old self made him wonder if you weren’t really gone. Maybe there was a chance you could be brought back from the dark side. Maybe not. His pessimistic side of him began to wonder what this really meant. 

The last time he’d had a feeling there was a way to save you, it turned out the exact thing the universe wanted. The Devil was in the details. And not to mention, the little disappearing act. Who know what Lucifer was trying to do when he finally got where he wanted. Wearing his brother like a cheap suit and you posing at the lover he lost. 

“They could be halfway across the world for all we know.” Dean said, trying to downplay this new information so he wouldn’t get himself too hopeful if it turned out to be false. “Sam and I thought the grace was supposed to help her. Look how it’s turning out.”

“Actually, they’re at some abandoned movie theater a few blocks from where they were hiding out. From what I wrote, she’s still in there, Dean. She’s trying to fight herself. It’s like… Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One natural instinct is trying to win over the other for total dominance. Lucifer is good at keeping her demon side in check. But it’s hard.” Chuck said. He skimmed the paragraphs and came to a conclusion that might make for a better story than what he was being told would end. He was always a sucker for a happy ending. “There’s something that’s been keeping her from turning for a few years now.”

“What?” Dean curiously asked, his frustration for the situation that he was being dealt with made him sneak in a bit of a sarcastic remark for the hell of it as he let out a scoff from how dumb it sounded. “The power of love and family?” 

“Well…yeah. Kind of. It’s always been about you and Sam.” Chuck gave more insight to what had been going on inside your head for years. He would have told Dean about the stuff he’d written about you and the impact of having a family like the boys, Bobby and Cas have done for you. But he didn’t feel the need to diverge much time on that. “If you could show her something from her past, give a happy memory, maybe she could snap out of it.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Dean said. “She’s gone, Chuck. Remember? Even if I could find Y/N, I’m sure Satan isn’t going to hand her over if I ask politely.”

“Uh, from the looks of it, he stepped out for a little while. He left her alone. Needed to do some…soul searching.” Chuck grimaced at his terrible wording he used to describe the situation of Lucifer talking to the younger Winchester. You weren’t the only one giving a fight. He looked through the pages he’d written, and from what he could gather, a plan began to form in his head about how he could help. Or change the story line just a bit to make sure this ended differently. “Maybe there is a way to stop this. I mean, this could backfire quickly. And you don’t have much time—”

“Chuck,” Dean cut off the man. “Tell me.”

\+ + +

Dean remembered how much crap he’d given his little brother about painting a devil’s trap on the inside of the trunk, only thinking about keeping the Impala is absolute mint condition. Now he thought it was the best decision that man had ever made. Dean pushed his foot farther on the gas pedal and sent Baby racing down the empty highway street. His eyes kept leaving the road and to the rear view mirror, wondering if there was anymore of Lucifer’s goons that he missed. The demon knife laid on the passenger’s seat bloody, covered in the half dozen black eyed monsters so he could get to you. Rough banging coming from the trunk made him realize what sort of trouble he gotten himself into. 

The man focused on the road and reached out to turn up the volume of the music he’d been listening to calm his nerves. He cranked it up until he drowned out your violent threats towards him and kicks that he almost wondered was going to break the trunk right off. He only had an hour to go until he hit Lawrence. If Chuck was right about this, maybe there was a way to do the impossible. One last time.

\+ + +

You were going to kill him, that was for sure. It was your first cohesive thought after waking up in complete darkness and a tight confiding space with a hazy mindset of where you had ended up. Part of you began to panic, wondering what was going on. But the sounds of a familiar rumble of an engine and the sight of a white painted devil’s trap when your eyes adjusted to the darkness made you realize where the hell you were. You were in the trunk of the Impala. It was the end of the world as you knew it. You were too far gone to be saved, and you thought someone like him was out of your hair for good. Turns out he was a lot dumber than he appeared. Or had some stupid plan to save the world and get you back to normal. Either way, you weren’t going to let him continue on with this much longer.

You swung your leg up to place another kick against the hood, thinking it would have at least got his attention by now. But all it left was an aching shin and bruised fists. You let out a frustrated sigh from what the devil’s trap was doing to you. Once this car stopped, if it was on some deserted back road or in the middle of some busy street, it didn’t matter. You were going to rip his heart of his chest and leave him to die.

The Impala kept going for about an hour long after your feeble attempts only resulted in Dean turning up the volume to some crappy classic rock song you’d heard a million times before. One that you remembered singing along to on long hours spent in the car during a summer afternoon, all the windows rolled down to help beat the heat after the air conditioner broke for a few days. All of you had been awfully cheery that day.

You remembered how your hair was flying everywhere from the freeze, the sun on your skin, and the boys smiling…looking happier than they had in awhile after everything that happened to you three.It’d been right after John passed away and the colt disappeared, Azazel along with it. But it was also after Dean fixed up the Impala good as new. It was a good memory in a moment of life where you had felt nothing but hopelessness. You kept thinking Azazel would never get that bullet between his eyes. Almost a year later, you witnessed it happen. He was dead. Along with a few other demons that had been a thorn in your side.

The slightest smile began to spread across your lips at the old memory of a time that felt like forever ago. The three of you could have been facing the absolute worst moments of your life, but in the Impala with the empty road at your fingertips and the right song—even if it was a little bit cheesy to think—nothing seemed impossible with that mindset.

But one little happy memory didn’t change the dozen other ones that lead you right here. All the misery, the endless chances you had tried to stop this exact moment from happening. All those nasty words said to each other because of the stress that became too much to bear. The mind didn’t come up with insults during the heat of the moment. It was little things you began to notice about someone, but you didn’t say anything because you loved them. You let it pass because you were trying to be nice. There’s only so much one can take before it became too much. You could only bite your tongue and fight for so long before you gave in.

Sam said yes to the Devil. You were turning into a demon. Who was to say that Dean love really loved you at all? Maybe this was his selfish way of trying to save the day. Or perhaps this was fate working its magic just one more time. Michael killed Katerina because she was turned into a demon by his brother. Adam was the vessel for the archangel. But it was supposed to have been Dean all along. Maybe the older Winchester finally snapped into his one role. Maybe he was driving around to find a perfect spot to kill you.

"Can I ask you something?” You can see him nod his head. The question burns in the back of your mind as the memory from your nightmare replays itself again. “What if I killed someone, Dean? What if I snap and turn evil like the yellow eyed demon says?”

Dean lets out a tired sigh, you knew this was a conversation he’s been dreading for months now. “Y/N, I’m not—”

“What if I turn into one of them, Dean?” You suddenly snap at the man, not knowing you were about to confess the deep secret you’ve been keeping for months now. “What if that demon is somehow trying to turn me into one of them? W—When Meg’s around, she keeps hinting with clues that I wasn’t normal. And what if she was right? Don’t you have to kill me like Madison?”

"There’s no proof out there, Y/N.” Dean tries to ease your mind. “You’re not evil—”

“But that’s what everyone keeps saying it about me! I’m a monster, too, Dean!” You scream at the top of your lungs. But as the words leave the tip of your tongue, you suddenly find yourself curling back down to the bed. You can feel the unwanted tears creeping into your eyes. “I really am a monster. My parents are dead because of me. Don’t I deserve to be punished for that?”

You could feel the car slowly coming to a stop as the tires began to drive over what sounded like a mixture of dirt and small pebbles. Wherever he was taking you, it didn’t leave a good feeling in the pit of your stomach. The music died just as the engine did, and a few seconds later, you felt the vibrations of Dean slamming the driver’s side door and began walking to the trunk. This was it. The moment you had been worrying about for years was about to come true.

Back when you didn’t know what was wrong with you, there had been reoccurring nightmares of the boys killing you because of who you were. Or what you were, really. John wanted his own son dead because there was something off about him.when he sensed a pattern that made him one of the special children Azazel was looking for. Only if he knew his wife had signed her own death when she stepped into the nursery that night. He’d given her a fair warning not to disturb him. She sold her soul to the yellowed eyed demon to bring her husband back and have a little bit of a normal life. And look at how that turned out. The things people do for love.

Dean shoved the key into the lock of the trunk and twisted it, making you hear it click into place before he lifted up the top, revealing a blinding amount of morning light that took you a bit by surprise. You squinted and tried to shield your eyes, Dean grabbed a hold of you by the arm and forced you out of the trunk. Not that you were putting much of a struggle. If he wanted a fight, you would give him one. You straightened yourself out when you were finally on your feet again after what felt like hours. As you looked to see that it was early morning, you were expecting to see some deserted area, miles away from civilization. The perfect spot to end this once and for all. But the sounds of birds chirping and a running river took you by surprise.

You looked to see that he’d taken you to a river that looked exactly like the one you remembered spending summer afternoons playing in the water, picnics when it was spring and flowers in bloom. And having leaf fights when it was fall when it was getting closer to Halloween. It had always been a tough time for John with Mary’s death just around the corner. Your mother would always tried her hardest to cheer him up. And the spot where he’d proposed to his late wife did it for him. He created new memories with his children and close family friends. If Dean had took you here, it meant that the both of you were in Lawrence. You furrowed your brow as you slowly turned around in your spot to face the man, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Why’d you bring me here?” You asked him with a quiet voice. Dean stood across from you with nothing in his hands, he tried to show you that he meant no harm. But you could feel yourself holding onto the thought that he was doing this as some kind of sick joke. "Of all the places you could choose…you decided to do it here.”

“What?” Dean seemed confused at what you were getting at. His face scrunched up as he attempted to take a step forward to you, but the glare that quickly settled on your face as you drew an arm up as a warning that you’d punch him made the man quickly back away. He put his hands up in a defensive position to show you that he meant no harm. “I just wanted to talk, Y/N. That’s all.”

“The world is coming to an end and Dean Winchester wants to talk.” You couldn’t help yourself but let out a chuckle, finding it strange at what came out of your mouth. You looked back over at the man when your eyes drifted to the water for a moment, bringing a memory of you and Dean swimming and splashing. “I know it’d be a matter of time until you officially went off the deepend. If you wanna try, fine. Give me your best shot.”

Dean seemed to only look more baffled at the accusations you were throwing at him, “Why do you think I brought you here?”

“Not to talk, that’s for sure. You and I are the original tragic love story. I mean, I know you’re not dressed up as Michael but it only seems logical you’d follow in his footsteps. You know how this goes. You’ve known since he told you. Michael loved Katerina. So did Lucifer. His baby brother changed her into a demon. And you know how Michael took the news.“ You said. You slowly made a slicing finger across your throat, giving him the answer to the tragic end of Katerina. He knew it was the truth. But the man clenched his jaw and stared at you, thinking that he could find some old trace of you to pull out and make this all better. “You never loved me.”

“I know that’s not the real you talking, sweetheart. Now why don’t you stop being selfish and let the real Y/N out? I don’t have a lot of time here.” Dean said. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket that was handed down by his father. You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be here right now wasting my breath. But I know you’re in there, Y/N. Come on.”

“There’s no such thing as true love. This is just your selfish attempts at trying to make yourself feel like the hero.” You mocked his attempts at trying to have this from having a happy ending when you decided this conversation was officially done. You wasted your breath on a topic that had been beaten over and over again. “Sam’s gone. So is the girl you fell in love with. You lost. It’s over.“

You thought that it was going to be enough for him to snap out of the foggy way of thinking that had been clouding his judgement for quite some time now. You began walking to the road which brought you here, thinking the conversation was over when the man grew silent at what you said. Dean finally understood that this was how things were meant to be. But it was never going to be that simple. He always had to try one more time.

You felt yourself stumbling backwards and into something rough and cold, it took a moment for the shock to wear off to realize that Dean lunged forward and threw you against the Impala. You thought he finally had given into what you thought he’d do. As your eyes opened up, you expected him to be hovering over you with the demon knife in the air, getting ready to kill you once and for all. Instead it was a sight that you should have expected. But it took you by surprise to see a pair of green eyes staring at you. You could see all the different emotions he’d been struggling with over the past few months, maybe even in his entire life, staring back at you.

He felt guilty for what he did as he stepped away from you, muttering apologies as he began to pace slightly around. You watched as he placed his hands on his head and tried his hardest to keep his emotions in check. It wasn’t anger that he was battling, it was his sadness. Raw fear that had drove him to do what he did.

"I’m sorry. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m sorry for saying all those things about you in hell. And doing all those terrible, God awful things. I’m sorry for losing hope and driving you to do what you did. That wasn’t me. Like this isn’t you. I know it isn’t.” Dean said. He started to ramble on in thought, thinking that nothing was going to work. But he had to. “The Y/N I fell in love with is selfless, curious and too kind for her own damn good. And you know what else? This is the person that she was afraid of becoming. This isn’t you, sweetheart.”

Dean thought his words would have had some sort of effect on you. He thought your cold stare would have changed. Maybe you would start to feel another sort of emotion. But it seemed that he was just wasting his breath. He let out a sigh and looked away from you. As he began to look around at the old scenery, he noticed an oak tree that sat right on the edge of the river with some grass. A fraction of a smile began to spread across his lips when a memory crossed his mind.

“Remember when we were kids? It was the summer right before you moved. Didn’t we carve our names into that tree? You got upset afterwards because you thought the tree was gonna die because of what we did and started crying. Man, did I get an earful from my dad.” Dean let out a soft chuckle from the memory as he felt the slightest smile slowly creep along the edges of his lips. He didn’t look at you. Instead, he kept his gaze to the ground and turned his back to you, knowing what he was going to stare back at wasn’t you. "If you wanna leave, fine. I can’t stop you. But just know one thing. I don’t care what people say. I don’t need some damn ‘fate’ to let me know something I have since I was a kid. I love you, Y/N. I always have. And I only want you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted. But you’re better than this. I know you are. Don’t be what they want. Be the woman—”

“I fell in love with?” You cut him off, finishing the line that you had told him once before in Bobby’s library. Right before all of this started. Dean slowly looked over his shoulder, expecting for you to be standing there with that same scowl on your face and black eyes to show that his efforts had been all for nothing. But your sniffling made him whip around to see someone he thought he’d never get to see again. You stood there with glassy eyes and a smile as you began to let out a bit of a laugh, the sweet noise that sounded like music to his ears. “You’re really awkward at this whole 'pep talk’ thing.”

“Yeah. Well, normally it’s you doing this sort of thing.” Dean shrugged as he gave you a bit of a smile, unsure if anything that he said helped at all. "I did I do okay?“

"I gotta knock off a few points for being overly cheesy. But…I don’t know.” You admitted as you let out a heavy sigh. You felt more in control of yourself than you had before. It was like when you were back at the apartment and saw Sam getting ready to say yes to Lucifer. Something snapped in you to take control. “It’s so hard to explain how I feel right now. Part of me wants to do the wrong thing, like kill you.” Dean’s face dropped slightly at what you slipped right into the conversation. You let out another laugh from his reaction. “But that’s nothing new. You can be a bit irritating, sometimes. My demon side…she’s a bitch. But I’m not gonna let her win. Because that’s not what the old me would do. I’ve fought it off for this long. What’s a little longer? Besides, I think the grace that Lucifer gave to me is working.”

"I know.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow from what he mentioned, making him elaborate more on that. “I made a call to Chuck. Him and I discussed a few things. He thought if I could talk to you alone, maybe there was a chance at bringing you back.”

“The power of love solves all the problems.” You muttered underneath your breath as you let out a scoff. You let out a sigh and looked around at the scenery one last time. There had been so many fond memories here. He did a good job picking this place. “Is it true?”

“What is?”

“Do you love me?”

Dean always had been good about showing more than saying. You could feel your eyes flutter close when he pressed his lips against yours. He always made a simple embrace or a kiss feel like the world stopped and it was just the two of you. It might have been cheesy, it might have been cliched. But you did love him. You loved the man because he was in your life since you were born. He’d been at your side through thick and thin. He would do anything for you. And you would do anything for him. The man was right. He did love you. More than he could ever explain with words. Not that he tried.

You’d spent your entire life listening to what people wanted and followed command. The both of you have your entire lives. Not anymore. You didn’t need fate to tell you who you loved or how your story was going to end. You weren’t going to let anyone tell you what to do. And who to be. You and Dean weren’t going to let this world end. Or you were going to die trying.

\+ + +

If the world was going to end, fine. But you sure as hell were going out with style, and with some good music to make a grand entrance. You did the honors of pushing in the cassette tape into the player and turned up the volume, letting good old Def Leppard’s “Rock of Ages” play you through. You looked over at Dean, and with a nod of the head, you looked straight forward into the field where you saw two familiar faces. The Impala pulled up to what appeared to be Sam and Adam, but you knew well enough that it was Michael and Lucifer. The moment you had been dreading for was about to begin. Dean pulled up until he left a decent space between you and the battle ground. But you didn’t waste a single second in stepping out and greeting the two men. A smile spread across your face as you leaned against the door frame.

“Howdy, boys.” Dean greeted his fellow brothers and gave them a cheery smile. But neither one of them seemed to have been happy at what was going on here. The man pretended to be a bit apologetic as he looked over at you. “Sorry. Are we interrupting something? I think we are, Y/N.”

“Yeah. You might be right.“ You agreed. You looked over at the two archangels and gave them a smile, knowing you weren’t going to be intimidated by their little scowls of disapproval. "But who says you boys get to have all the fun. I want in.”

\+ + +

The moment all of you have been waiting for. It was about to begin. But you were going to put a stop to it once and for all. You stepped out onto the grassy field and slammed the passenger’s side door shut, Dean following suit. It was the prize fight that had been planned out since Lucifer had been thrown into the cage and disobeyed his father for not doing what he was told. Fate had worked out a perfect bloodline that could be traced to the four of you to this exact field. This place was chosen because this was where the big plans started. Some were in the exact roles they were supposed to be, a few were improvising for what they had. And others were writing their script, changing things up for the hell of it.

You weren’t the least bit scared at who you were going up against. If it was going down bloody, you weren’t afraid to die. You didn’t care if the world went down in flames and all of this was for nothing. You just needed to try. If you could fight who they wanted you to be, maybe there was a chance Sam could as well.

“Hey.” You called out to the younger Winchester as you pointed a finger at him, you walked over in his direction until you were standing right next to him. “We need to talk.”

“Y/N, of all people. If you know what’s good for you, don’t do this. After everything that I did for you. And this is now you repay me.” Lucifer spoke with an icy cold tone. His eyes narrowed slightly when you scoffed at his passive threat as his gaze slowly adverted to the man standing next to you. “And Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”

“What have you done for me, exactly? ‘Cause from my point of view, you’ve done nothing but make my life a miserable hell. You disgusting, obsessive son of a bitch. And I’m not talking to you.” You corrected him as your voice grew harder from the way he was trying to make you feel. “I’m talking to Sam.”

“You’re no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here.” Michael spoke up, deciding to get a few things straight here. He wasn’t going to let a human and his brother’s little mutt ruin things for him. This was a moment he’d been waiting for a very long time. And it was going to happen today. “And Y/N, well, why are you even speaking at all? Your part is here done.”

“Adam, if you’re in there somewhere, I am so sorry.” Dean apologized to his half brother, knowing what was about to come was going to be a painful experience anyone could be faced with. But the archangel was friendly enough to reassure the both of you that it was just him in his meatsuit.

“Adam isn’t home right now.” Michael said, knowing the young man was long gone.

“Well, then you’re next on my list, buttercup. But right now we need five minutes with him.” You said, brushing off whatever sort of threat he was passing off with his facial expression. You looked away from Michael and to his brother, but your attention on lasted for a few moments when you heard the man mutter an insult. You could feel your fists clench as you slowly looked back over at this archangel Michael. “You know what? Let’s one thing straight here. I might be your brother’s reason for being free. He might have a crude sense of humor of giving me a look that reminds you of someone. But I’m not Katerina. I’m not anybody’s puppet to play with anymore. I’m not going to fall into submission because you told me to. I’m not going to turn myself into a demon. And,” You stepped forward to him as you pointed a finger at him like it was a weapon. Your lips stretched into a smirk as you looked at him straight in the eye. “I am not going to watch you burn this place down to the ground.”

“You little mutt.” Adam hissed at you with a venomous tone. You weren’t the least bit afraid when he started to make his way forward to you, closing the gap between the both of you. It seemed your words had struck a nerve in the archangel from the way he spoke to you. “You are the reason why we’re doing this in the first place. You’re the reason why the world is coming to an end. And you will do exactly what I tell you to do!”

“Hey, ass-butt!”

Two words saved you from ending your story with your heart getting ripped out by Michael. You could feel yourself letting out a sigh of relief from hearing Cas’ voice from across the field. Michael looked over his shoulder to see the angel was standing with what appeared to be a glass bottle in his hand and a cloth slowly burning away. Bobby stood not too far from where he stood, making sure all of this went down right. You watched as Cas leaned back slightly before throwing the bottle across the field, and landing perfectly on the archangel, sending his vessel up into flames from the holy oil and fire.

You could hear Adam’s screams of pain as the familiar piercing sound of Michael as you tried to block out the nose best that you could. Dean managed to pull you away from the fire before Adam’s body engulfed in flames. You watched as his skin sizzled and smoked, all before vanishing into thin air. You could feel your eyes widen from what you had just witnessed, Dean, however, was a little too caught up on the insult the angel used to grab Michael’s attention. It was one that you’d never heard before, that was for sure.

“‘Ass-butt’?” Dean repeated the insult, seeming a little surprised himself at what the angel came up all on his own.

“He’ll be back—and upset—but you got your five minutes.” Cas wasn’t too caught up on the details, all he knew was that you were going to have two very angry archangels in the matter of minutes. But you were going to have a feeling the wrath of the Devil himself was going to be more than you could ever handle.

“Castiel. Did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?” Lucifer asked a simple question, but it was his tone of voice that made you feel uneasy for what was about to come of this. Cas tried his hardest to give the archangel a smile as he raised his hands slightly in defense. He tried to deny his actions as he muttered a no. “No one dicks with Michael but me.” 

Lucifer decided the punishment should fit the crime. Ever so slowly, he raised his hand, and with the snap of his fingers, Cas—the sweet, obnoxiously annoying angel who disobeyed Heaven, the one who you had started to view as family—was gone just like that. You could feel yourself inhaling a sharp gasp as your eyes grew wide from how Lucifer made Cas into nothing more than just blood and bits of organs on the grass. Your breathing slowly to turn heavier as you tried your hardest to break your concentration away from the sight. Bobby stood there with a look of shock, a fine spray of blood from the explosion stained his skin. You tried your hardest to open your mouth, but you were afraid if you did, the only thing that would come out was a sob from what you had just witnessed. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Sammy,” Dean swallowed as he directed his attention to the man that still appeared to be his little brother. He had to try at least once to see if he was still in there. “Can you hear me?”

Lucifer slowly turned his head to look at the man at his tiresome attempts of trying to reach someone that will never come out again. His expression was nothing more than stone cold, exactly what you would expect to look in the eyes of the Devil himself. You let out a shaky breath as you tried your hardest to appear as unafraid when Lucifer glanced in your direction. It seemed that he had a few things he wanted to get off his chest before his brother came back and got things back on track.

"You know, Y/N, I tried to be nice. Let you make the right decisions and do things at your own pace. For you and Sammy’s sake. I never wanted you to feel rushed. I made promises and all you had to do was exactly what I wanted. And even that you couldn’t do right. But I’ve had enough. Of you disobeying me…you rolling around with this little maggot.” Lucifer said as he walked over to Dean. His hands reached out and took ahold of each side of the jacket. You could hear the leather squeak underneath his grip as he clenched his fists, making sure to get a good grip on the jacket. “I think it’s time for you to understand what I was forced to go through.”

Before you realized what was happening, you watched as Dean was flung into the windshield of the Impala, his weight cracking the glass as it shattered into spiderweb cracks. Lucifer began walking forward to the man as he reached out an arm to get started on what he’d been dying to do since being free from the cage. “No, don’t!” You suddenly screamed on the top of your lungs, getting him to stop for a fraction of a second. Any logical part of you was gone. You stared at the man that was supposed to be your best friend. But all you saw was pure evil. Tears began to form in your eyes as you tried to see if there was any trace of Sam still left in there. He wouldn’t do this. He couldn’t hurt his brother. “Sammy, please. Don’t do this.”

“Sammy’s long gone, Y/N. He has been since Detroit.” Lucifer reminded you that the person you were trying to reach was long gone. You tried your hardest to deny what he was saying as you began to shake your head, trying anything to keep yourself from letting your tears fall. This was not the moment to show him vulnerability. If he knew what he was doing, it meant that he could crawl his way in before. No hope meant no chances of letting you return to your humanity that you managed to get back for a short amount of time. “You brought this upon yourself.”

Lucifer turned his attention back to the man that he’d spent months loathing over, the one person he wanted nothing more than to rip his head off clean. Since Dean wasn’t important to this story anymore and his brother gone for a few minutes, he decided to kill two birds with one stone. He took a giant step forward as he reached out an arm to grab ahold of Dean by the leg, but before he could get to the main event, all of you froze at the sound of a gunshot.

The Devil looked over his shoulder to see that Bobby was standing across the field holding the smoking gun. The hunter pressed his finger on the trigger again, landing a shot directly to the heart. But the bullets were nothing that he couldn’t handle anymore. You knew it was like poking the beast with a stick, you gave him a look for what he did, Bobby shrugged his shoulders. He thought it wouldn’t have hurt to use all your options. But the man should have known from Cas when taking on someone like Lucifer. Bobby Singer, the one person who had been like a parent to the three of you, was forced to face the consequences of his actions.

Your hand quickly pressed itself against your mouth to muffle the bloody scream that escaped your throat when you watched Bobby’s neck twist at an angle that didn’t seem humanly possible. The echoing sounds of bones crunching made you realize the man’s neck broke after Lucifer simply moved his hand. You could hear Dean shout on the top of his lungs himself, horrified at what he saw. Both of you were forced to watch Bobby, the man that all of you had viewed like a father, the one who was there for you through thick and thin, forced to be another casualty of this fight as his lifeless body fell to the ground.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding inside your ears as you could feel your body shaking like a leaf, your knees threatened to buckle underneath your weight as your eyes stared at the sight from across the field. Seeing Bobby’s lifeless body on the floor and Cas being reduced to nothing more than blood and guts, it made you wonder if there was a way out of this. The sight became blocked when he stepped in front of you with that stupid little smile on his face made you want to believe that Sam really wasn’t in there anymore. But you couldn’t give up hope just yet. You stared at him straight in the eye, and with a weak voice, you asked the Devil a simple question: “Why?”

“Why am I going to force you to watch as I slaughter everyone you love? Like I said, Y/N. Your actions will always have consequences. I’ve been nothing but patient. You were so close to being what I wanted. But I see what the problem is.” Lucifer began walking back over to the Impala where he had the last person on his list that really mattered. Your eyes looked away from the man with his back turned to you and Dean. You inhaled a deep breath and got started on the plan that was your last option. “"Humanity is such a pitiful thing. Emotions drive you things into doing the stupidest things. You think you’re important. But you are nothing more than scum who deserves to—”

He might have been right about emotions driving you to do stupid things. You had one trick up your sleeve left. It was gonna require some sacrifice, but you knew the outcome wouldn’t last long. Chuck had thought this could work after what happened in Missouri. It was a good piece of information that you could use against him. You watched as Lucifer stopped talking mid-sentence as he felt the sharp pain rush through his abdomen, like a stabbing pain. Ever so slowly, he looked over his shoulder to see what you’ve just done.

Your lips stretched into a smirk as you pulled out the demon knife from the middle of your chest and let the bloody weapon fall to the ground. You took a step backwards, but the weight you suddenly felt from the pain made your knees buckle underneath your weight and land onto the grassy field. You didn’t know what you were expecting to happen, but this was your last chance at stopping him before things could get worse. You stared at the Devil straight in the eye as you began to let out a laugh from the look on his face.

But the taunts only lasted for a moment before you let out a painful cough, you leaned over and tried your hardest to spit out whatever sort of blood that was starting to rise to the surface. "You thought it was gonna be that easy, you son of a bitch?”

Lucifer noticed that your attempts of harming yourself had caused blood to start pooling out from the wound. Your breathing became heavier as you could feel the effects of what you just done start to come in effect. “I get it. Kill yourself, I die. Grab the rings off me and shove me back into the cage? Clever. I’ll give you that much. But you’re gonna need something better than that little knife.” He kicked the weapon out of your reach when you realized this plan wasn’t going to work as he continued on talking. He hovered over you as you leaned yourself against the side of the Impala, your breathing becoming more shallow as you barely were strong enough to keep yourself up. “You can’t kill who you’re meant to be, Y/N. She’s still in there. And I’m gonna bring her out. I guess letting you take control wasn’t the right move. I think I like you better this way…weak, on the edge of death. Like ripping wings off a butterfly.”

You tried your hardest to somehow push yourself to your feet when Lucifer made his way over to Dean, deciding to finally get started on this plan of his feet. Your hands slipped across the glossy hood as you begged one last time for all of this to stop. Lucifer didn’t listen. He grabbed ahold of the oldest Winchester by the leg and dragged him forward, giving him no chance to defend himself when he swung a punch directly at Dean. The man went swinging face first into the hood of the Impala, but he managed to catch himself by placing his hands out in front of him. He could feel a trickle of blood pour out from his mouth at the punch landed directly around his jaw.

Dean put his hand out in front of him to see a small pool of blood form in the palm of his hand. He seemed stunned at what happened, but that didn’t stop him from turning around and facing the man. “Sammy?” He spoke his little brother’s name, hopeful that he could hear everything that he was about to say. “Are you still in there?”

“Oh, he’s in here, all right.” Lucifer answered as he swung yet another punch, hard enough to make Dean fall back for a moment. “And he’s gonna feel the snap of your bones.” He kept going as he punched the man again. This time he watched as the man fell to the ground and gave him a moment to try and crawl away. “Every single one.” Lucifer decided that he had enough of seeing Dean suffer at getting back up to his feet. He bent down and helped him up, only before slamming him against the hood, giving you a perfect view of Dean’s face that was already bloody from what he did. “We’re gonna take our time. We’re gonna give Y/N a nice showing of Sammy killing you. How’s that sound?“

You’d never felt more scared in your life than you had right now of what was going to happen. It didn’t mean that you tried to beg for him to stop. You’d do anything in your power for this not to happen. But it was too late. You had been given the option to have a happy ending, but instead, you were forced to see the consequences of your own actions. Lucifer wouldn’t stop as he kept hitting Dean with all the pent up rage of his own. He kept punching him to what felt like a thousand different times. You dug your nails into the metal as you pulled yourself so you were now leaning against the hood with all the strength that you had.

"Stop! Please!” You pleaded one last time as you pressed your flustered cheek against the coldness of the metal. You shut your eyes as you could feel the emotions of everything happen suddenly hit you at once. You shook your head as you pressed your eyelids tighter when a sob broke from your throat. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. You let out a choked noise as you began to cry from what was happening. You couldn’t stomach the sight of Sam killing Dean with your own eyes. You would rather burn in Hell than any of this. “Just stop! Please! I…I don’t care what you want from me. Do whatever you want to me. Just don’t do this.”

Dean always been the stronger one than you. You slowly opened your eyes to see that his head was resting against the hood, with one eye still partly open, he looked at you. You could feel yet another sob build in your throat at the expression on his face. He wasn’t angry or sad at what was unfolding. He seemed…okay with what was about to happen. If the world was going to end, fine. He didn’t care about that matter. As long as the three of you were together. You would go down as a family, like how he always expected it to be.

“Sam, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” Dean reassured his little brother that everything was going to be okay as he placed a hand on the man’s chest to try and steady himself. He didn’t care if the man standing in front of him was the Devil himself. Because he knew his baby brother was still in there. He was witnessing this, and knowing that big conscious of his, would feel guilty for letting him do this. Lucifer threw yet another punch, as if to let him know that the younger man was long gone. You could another rush of tears come out from your eyes when Dean managed to find whatever strength that he had to look at you. “I’m not gonna leave you two.”

Lucifer drew his arm back up in the air, getting ready to throw yet another punch at the man to end this once and for all. But he stopped himself for a moment when the clouds began to move to reveal the sun, and with the angle that he was standing, it could do wonders for the mind to feel the warmth on one’s skin. Lucifer looked down to stare at the oldest Winchester who was about to kill. He was so set on it. But his arm never moved from his position. He stared down at the man who had been a thorn in his side for months. He kept him away from the two things that he desperately wanted. That he thought were rightfully his. But it wasn’t the Devil who was staring at the Winchester.

Sam furrowed his brow to see what he’d done. He slowly looked away from his brother and to you. You stared at him with a look in your eyes that he’d only seen once before in his life. The vulnerability made you appear like your sixteen year old self. Hopeless and afraid of what he was going to do. Sam looked away from you and his brother to stare at himself. What had he done? His fist throbbed as he stared at the person he had become.

His eyes drifted away from himself and that little green army man shoved in the ashtray. That was one of his favorite toys growing up. He’d been so upset from what he did. But Dean tried to put a silver lining to it. The little army man would be there when he slept in the backseat. It was a different story when Dean shoved his legos into the heating vent. Their father found out one winter morning when he went to turn on the heat to warm up the car. And then there was the time Dean was eight and he was four. The both of them climbed into the backseat and carved their initials into the interior. Because Baby was theirs. And she always will be.

The brothers had been their entire life in that damn car, but it felt like the only home they needed. The first time he got back into it after leaving for college was when his father went missing and you tagged along for what was supposed to be a weekend trip. You in the backseat, Sam in the front and Dean the driver. Your soundtrack was the dusty cassette tapes that you and him teased the older Winchester over. But the rules went; driver picks the music, passengers shuts their cake hole. And just like that, five years worth of memories came flooding back to him.

The times of discussing cases, fighting over what to do. laughing and singing to those stupid songs. You and Dean doing whatever you could to make sure that Sam was all right. That’s what it’s been all about. What you and his brother were willing to do just to make sure that the younger Winchester was safe. Now it was time to return the favor.

Sam could feel a sudden surge of something that he hadn’t felt in almost a full day—it was control. He was in control of himself again. The man felt his fist loosen as he started to gain the strength back from the Devil. He quickly stepped away as he let out a groan, knowing it wasn’t easy, but he wasn’t going to let him win. Sam let go of his brother and stepped away, allowing the man to fall to the ground so he was next to you. You watched as the younger man inhaled a few deep breaths as he made sure that this would work.

“It’s okay, guys. It’s gonna be okay. I got him.” Sam reassured the both of you as he gave a smile. He wanted the last sight of him as a happy one. You forced yourself to give him a smile for what he was about to do. This was his decision, it was what was going to happen. Sam fetched out the rings from his pocket and threw it across the field, moving quickly before the son of a bitch could take control again. "Bvtmon tabges babalon.”

You watched as the spell began to work again when the ground began to slowly sink down and the wind picked up again, getting ready to drag anything down into the dark pits of below. It was the swan dive that would end all of this once and for all, give a happy ending to the people that deserved it the most. You could see that Sam was trying his hardest not to psyche himself at the darkness that was going to swallow him forever. He inhaled a few deep breaths as he took a step forward, knowing this was how it had to end. But before he made a single move, a familiar voice called out to him, stopping this plan.

“Sam!” It was Michael, back in his vessel without a scratch on him. And it seemed he didn’t like how all of you were going to end this story. “It’s not gonna end this way! Step back!”

“You’re gonna have to make me!” Sam shouted, not backing down from what he was about to do.

“I have to fight my brother, Sam! Here and now!” Michael said. “It’s my destiny!”

Destiny; it was the word one that kept repeating itself over and over again. For a split second Sam wondered if it was the right thing to do. If Michael won, all of you would be given happiness and Heaven on earth. But that’s not what lead up to this moment. That’s not what all of you had been fighting for. Sam knew what the right thing to do was. He always knew, and nothing would stop him from doing this. He shut his eyes, and taking a breath, he let himself fall backwards.

Michael shouted when he realized what the younger man was about to do. There was a split second of time when the man was quick to act on his feet and grabbed ahold of Sam by the fabric of his jacket. But two could play this game. Sam grabbed the man by the arm and took a step backwards into the pit, dragging Michael to the darkness below, and disappearing from sight. You could feel your eyes being blinded by a bright light that came out from nowhere. You attempted to shield your face from the rays as you accidentally slipped to the ground after losing your balance on the hood. It only lasted for a moment before everything went back to normal.

You slowly opened your eyes when you felt the wind slowly go back down to a gentle freeze that hit your flustered cheeks. You let out a shaky breath as you began looking around, almost expecting to see Sam around, but there was nothing. The hole in the ground disappeared as if nothing happened. He was gone. Sam was gone.

You couldn’t help it when you felt yet another rush of tears come over you. But you weren’t crying just because you were sad. You felt….free. Lucifer was gone. The world was saved. You could feel whatever sort of darkness that you had been fighting of your own disappear just like that. Maybe you had broken whatever sort of connection that you had to Lucifer. Now that he was gone, you killed off whatever sort of demon that was inside of you.

You pressed your hand against your stomach when you felt a sudden rush of pain shoot straight through your lower half when you tried to move. You looked away from the rings and to your shirt to see that a small piece of fabric was starting to grow darker as it stuck to your skin. You furrowed your brow in confusion as you took your shaky hands and pulled up your top. The stab wound you had given yourself hadn’t healed like you hoped. It was starting to slowly trickle out with blood.

\+ + +

Dean pressed harder against your stomach to keep the wound from gushing out anymore blood. He kept whispering with a swollen mouth and a shut eye that everything was going to be all right. The man kept talking about anything to keep you awake. He tried to ignore your coughing as you spit out blood and stained the grass. He said that everything was going to be all right, you were doing a good job. Just a little longer before the both of you would be home safe and sound. No more evil to fight. The both of you could be together.

“The world is ours, sweetheart. You and me.“ Dean chuckled as he watched the cloth he gotten from the Impala growing more soaked with blood. He swallowed down any sort of tears that threatened to come as he continued on talking about the life that ahead for the two of you. “We can go anywhere. Do anything we want. Hell…maybe we could leave all of this behind. Start a family of our own.”

You slowly looked away from the spot across the field where you still pictured Sam standing right before he took the dive below. Your eyes softened as you stared at the man you loved with all of your heart. Part of you knew this was how it was going to end. But you didn’t want to let go just yet. You wanted a few minutes longer. “Yeah.” You said with a quiet voice. A fraction of a smile began to spread across your lips. “I always wanted to have twins. Boy and a girl.”

"We could still do that. Sell your place, move far away from here. Pick any spot in the world, and I’ll do it.” Dean said. He tried to smile, but his mouth could only move so much. You let out a small laugh at the idea of him getting on a plane, but it caused you to let out another rough cough, making you wheeze before you managed to settle down. “Hey, hey. Take it easy, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”

“No, it’s not. I can’t feel my legs, Dean. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.” You told him the truth as your eyes began to fill up with tears from what you had just said. He shook his head as he pressed down harder on the wound. “It’s over…but not for you. Go to—”

“Y/N,” Dean cut you off as he hissed your name. “Don’t. Please.”

“I know you don’t want to do this anymore. And that’s okay. I’ve known for a while. Go to Lisa, Dean. Make yourself happy. Give yourself a family that deserves you. Leave this all behind and don’t look back. Promise me.” You told him, not giving him much of a choice in the matter. But you decided to give him a bit of a hopeful outlook as you tried to see things on the bright side of things. “We won’t be separated forever. I mean, we do have a spot reserved upstairs just for the two of us. That is, if you don’t screw this up and do something stupid.” Dean tried to think that you were going to make it out of this alive. But from the way that you had gotten yourself and the amount of blood that you were losing, the outcome was looking impossible. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Dean whispered with a quiet voice.

The first kiss you had ever shared with Dean was when you and him were at your final minutes of the demon deal and attempting to kill Lilith one last time. You made the first move. You leaped on him and pressed your lips against his, taking him by surprise. It was one of the best moments in your life. It seemed only appropriate your final kiss would be shared in the same style.

Dean could feel the grip that you had around his jacket that you had used to pull him to him loosen. His opened slightly to see that you were staring at him with a smile as your hand slowly began to fall until it dropped into your lap. Your eyes slowly began to flutter shut as you took the final breath you world before slipping out of consciousness, leaving him alone. The man stared at you for what felt like the longest time. He attempted to lightly shake your body. But he knew. It was over. All of this bloody mess was finally over.

But it seemed this wasn’t the end for some. Dean could feel someone watching him. He slowly looked away from your face and over his shoulder. He stared at a sight that he’d thought would never see again. “Cas, you’re alive?”

“I’m better than that.” The angel said.

Cas showed what kind of abilities he could do as he pressed two fingers against the man’s forehead, and just like that, Dean could feel the swelling in his face disappear as he could finally see normally again. Perhaps it was a stupid question to ask. The older Winchester pushed himself to his feet as he stared at the person in front of him with awe at what he could have done. Maybe the person that he’d been looking for was right in front of his face. Or maybe he took over the role. “Cas, are you God?”

“That’s a nice compliment. But no.” Cas said, a smile creeping at the ends of his lips from what the man thought. “All though, I do believe he brought me back.”

The angel left him with the words to think about as he walked over to Bobby when he spotted the man lifeless on the ground. He felt good to be back to his old self again. Cas bent down, and with a simple touch to the forehead, he brought life back to him. He watched as Bobby took a moment before he was revived. The man’s eyes bulged open as he began to frantically look around, wondering where he was for a second. When he saw the angel Castiel standing over him, he suddenly realized what happened. And the place he’d been before wasn’t just a dream.

Cas thought his work was done here. He’d brought back the people that needed to be and Dean was fixed. But someone else didn’t think so. Dean shouted at the angel, capturing his attention just long enough for him to face the man, wondering what else he wanted. The older Winchester let out a breath as he looked away from him and to you, who remained lifeless and leaned against the Impala. He looked back at the angel, hoping he would understand. And from the sullen look that settled across his face, he understood. But there was nothing that he could do. When someone dies, they want to believe their loved ones went to Heaven, where they would wait for them until the end of their days.

Dean could feel his knees give out from his weight when he realized that you weren’t going to be waiting for him when death came for him.

\+ + +

Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can crap out a beginning, but the endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the ass. Guy defeats the monster and saves the girl. That’s how it’s supposed to end, right? No. I wish it would. But…sadly, no.

Hunters were given the traditional salt and burn funeral. But not for Y/N. She had a life outside of this world, she had friends that knew her for someone else. He made sure the service was quiet and peaceful, surrounded by people that she loved. A few days after the incident, she was buried in the cemetery in Lawrence with her parents. Where she belonged.

Dean’s final goodbye to the woman he loved was also to someone else he was close the very next day. This will be the last time Dean and Bobby will see each other for a very long time. And, for the record, at this point next week, Bobby will be hunting a rugaru outside of Dayton.

But not Dean.Dean didn’t want Cas to save him, every part of him, every fiber he’s got, wants to die or find a way to bring back Y/N and Sam. But he isn’t gonna do either. Because he made a promise to the both of them.He went back to the woman that he shared one weekend with. One weekend that was one of the best nights of his life. She wasn’t Y/N. Nobody could be that woman. But little did Dean realize when he knocked on Lisa’s front door, she was waiting for him. Because that’s what Y/N wanted. She knew the two of them would make each other happy, to complete a family that doesn’t always need to end in blood. And that’s where Dean’s story ends. WIth a happy ending. Doesn’t seem so fair, I know.

And you might be asking yourself, what’s all this add up to? It’s hard to say. But me, I’d say this was a test…for Y/N and the boys. And I think they did all right. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And…well, isn’t that kind of the whole point?

No doubt—endings are tough. But then again…nothing ever really ends, does it?

When we close the books or see the ending credits for a movie, we think that’s where it ends. The characters disappear and everything for them ends. But it doesn’t. They continue on going through their life, living life like you and me. Waiting for that moment for the adventure to kick up again. And it will soon. Y/N and the boys don’t let death stick to them for very long. This is just the beginning. I think the rest is up to them to decide for how their story goes.


End file.
